


Promise Me Forever

by shyath



Series: Happily Ever After [1]
Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyath/pseuds/shyath
Summary: Serena promised to stay and Blair believed her. Only, Serena left once again and Blair was left devastated. Now in their 20s, Serena comes back and asks for forgiveness. This time Blair has moved on. Or has she?
Relationships: Jenny Humphrey/Blair Waldorf, Serena van der Woodsen/Blair Waldorf
Series: Happily Ever After [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574776
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

During the times Blair forgets to forget, she imagines how it will feel like if Jenny were a little taller, a little blonder, a little more graceful and a little less restrained. And maybe, just maybe, when her lips part just so to press the flat of her tongue against that racing pulse on Jenny's neck, Jenny will allow Blair to brush (clamp down) the edges of her teeth against it as well and whisper Blair's name in response with a desperation that does not belong.

Only she knows how it will feel like and she knows all too well the name that will threaten to slip out. She suspects that Jenny knows more than she lets on. They have been together for far too long (three years, but she has pined for another's touch for much longer) for the younger girl to not pick up anything by now. Even though Blair is careful to keep the past separate from the present, Serena is and always will be the heavy silence that hangs in the room, the all-too-solid reminder of what has once been and what can never be.

* * *

Blair sometimes wakes in the middle of the night and never returns to sleep. Tonight is another one of those nights. Jenny's fingers twitch where they rest gently on Blair's bared stomach and the fingernails Jenny keeps blunt to accommodate her slowly advancing career trace fire on her recently cooled skin. Blair admits that Jenny is a more than decent lover. But something she sees in Blair seems to propel her to keep her ministrations gentle; even though Blair keeps on dropping hints that she will not oppose treatment of the opposite nature, that she will welcome the pain. She will not, however, plead for it. She is still a Waldorf after all. So Blair carefully removes Jenny's arm from around her waist, slips out of the bed and into the lonely night.

She feels the growing heat, the ache between her legs like it is a solid weight to be carried around. It is not supposed to be an uncomfortable feeling, an unwelcome sensation; especially when she has a more than willing lover in her bed. But it still is, strangely, a discomfort. Something about it feels off and if she were to think on it, she might just be able to put her finger on what 'it' is exactly. Only she does not want to. She cannot dwell on a memory for any longer and any more often than she already does. It is unhealthy, and it is slowly but surely destroying her relationship. If she were younger, if she were less cynical, if there were a viable exit strategy to be had, if Serena were somewhere to fall back on, maybe she would have taken the plunge, maybe she would have told Jenny the inevitable: that the two of them are not the things that forever is made of. She can feel the chuckle building in momentum at the implication her own thoughts are making: that Serena and her are the things that forever is made of. If they were, however, Serena would, should still be here though.

It hurts to think of her, it hurts so much, but every single flash of her, in whatever form the memory comes in, sends shudders through her body and Blair always ends up with her hand between her legs, her fingers mercilessly driving in and out. She pinches at her own nipples, listens to Jenny's subdued breathing just feet away, imagines Serena as she comes apart (like it is possible to die from sheer pleasure) and stifles her moans and Serena's name from leaving the safety of her lips. And every single time she comes undone, she completes it by giving in to her need to vent, to cry.

* * *

"You look beautiful," Jenny whispers, brushing her lips across the top of Blair's perfect coiffure.

Blair tries to grit out something nice in response and she hopes tightening her hold on Jenny's arm serves well enough as her intended reaction. Maybe not. But Jenny has not weathered a relationship with Blair for this long without learning that Blair does not, cannot often express what she needs to.

"You'll be great up there," Jenny continues as the limousine slowly begins to stop. Blair has been invited to be the keynote speaker of the most recent charity gala in the city and while she has been involved with several charities in the past, child welfare has always been a pet project of hers and she has accepted the invite without too much thought.

"I know," Blair replies in a soft voice as she starts composing herself for the night. "I know," she says in a stronger voice, as the door is held open. Jenny steps out first and holds her hand out toward Blair, a genuinely affectionate smile across her lips. Amidst blinding flashes and deafening cheers, Blair's hand finds Jenny's and she lets herself be ushered toward the front doors. The numbness sets in soon enough and she lets the tension wash over her like a familiar lover.

* * *

Her back goes rigid the moment her name is called out. Then it relaxes somewhat as she lets a small smile steal across her lips: a practiced shot at subtlety. She squeezes Jenny's hand and lets her lover plant a chaste kiss on her lips before she makes for the stage. She has taken over from her mother once she has finished university and has proven her worth with a ferocity even Eleanor has begrudgingly approved of. Charity galas such as this one are a regular event in her already much too packed calendar and she knows only too well how far appearances at social events of this magnitude can take her and the company. She needs to do well, to do more than just good enough.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," she begins as she takes the podium. "I am very honoured to have been invited to become the keynote speaker of this gala. I must assure you -" Whatever it is that she must assure them of dies on her lips. She has kept her eyes focused on different sections of the audience and, during her perusal, her eyes have caught sight of a familiar blonde. She can feel the hitch in her breath just as well as she can see the shaking of her hands. Serena. She stares at her again and watches the way Serena smiles crookedly back. She feels faint and only the sudden flare of fury keeps her going. If anyone were to notice the pause in Blair's speech, they did not say anything. The rest of the speech continues without another problem.

* * *

"Blair."

Serena sounds almost exactly the same, only maybe a little older, a little more assured, but she still strikes a chord with Blair; especially when she gets all apologetic and emotional. How she manages to convey so much in one word, Blair will never understand.

"Serena," Blair says a little too pleasantly and she is pleased to see the flinch Serena tries to cover up.

"How have you -" Serena never gets to finish what she sets out to say because Jenny chooses that exact moment to reclaim her place by Blair's side. Serena's eyes track the way Jenny's arm wraps around Blair's waist and the way Blair leans into Jenny's body at the contact. "Jenny," she says quietly, looking immediately dejected. Blair has always found it endearing that Serena never seems to be able to keep her emotions under control. She realises that she still finds it one of Serena's most attractive points.

"Serena," Jenny utters, surprised if the tight grip on Blair's hip were any indication.

"Are you two -" Serena tries even when it looks like confirming the status of their relationship is the last thing she wants to do.

"Together? Yes, we are," Blair replies, directing an appropriately loving look at Jenny.

"Oh. That's great. Awesome." Serena looks on the verge of tears, her lower lip is trembling and her fingers dig at her sides awkwardly. "I'll just - I'll just head - I mean, good night, I - I hope I'll see you two around." She fixes Blair with a look before disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

"I didn't know Serena was back in town," Jenny comments idly as she walks into the bathroom.

Blair's hands pause as she goes about removing her makeup. "Neither did I," she says in a clipped tone, splashing water onto her face with a little too much force.

"This sort of thing makes me regret that we no longer have Gossip Girl to keep us up to date."

"I think it's for the best." The two of them have had this conversation over and over again. While it is true that Gossip Girl has more or less stayed out of their lives, she does keep up the sporadic posts about them. Occasional coverage is, to Blair at least, much more preferable to constant coverage.

"Though we would have known about Serena's return a lot earlier."

"You know, listening to you going on and on about Serena is not really something I plan to waste tonight on." Blair smirks at Jenny's reflection as she begins to turn around.

"Oh? Do you have something better planned?" Jenny's eyes light up as she takes the hand Blair extends toward her.

"I can think of a few," Blair purrs, slipping her arms into the gap in Jenny's nightgown. Not for the first time does she think that Jenny's habit of sleeping in the nude very convenient.

* * *

"Ms. Waldorf, Serena van der Woodsen is here to see you. Shall I let her in?" her secretary's voice buzzes through the intercom.

"Jenny, Serena is here to see me. I'll see you later for dinner, okay?" Blair says quickly into her phone. She hates that she can feel the surge of excitement in her at the thought of seeing Serena again and she hates herself even more for not being able to give an appropriate response to Jenny's sincere whisper of 'I love you' before hanging up. "Send her in," Blair tells her secretary. She has only enough time to check her reflection before the door to her office is thrown open by the flurry of nervous energy known as Serena.

"Blair." Serena says her name as if she were exhaling a breath she has been holding. It feels decidedly - empowering.

Blair sits up a little more in her chair and gestures to one of the two guest chairs she has in front of her massive desk. "Serena. Would you take a seat?"

Serena struts forward and fails to pretend she has not eyed the loveseat tucked in the corner, which is obviously the most comfortable seating arrangement in the room. "Thank you," she murmurs distractedly, her hands restless where she keeps them on her thighs and her eyes moving about agitatedly.

"So you have come home," Blair states evenly, surveying her manicure in a display of disinterest.

"I -" Serena lurches forward as she begins to speak, her hands resting solidly on Blair's desk and a muscle flexes in her jaw when she realises Blair's strategy in placing the desk between them. Serena does mightily better in close proximity.

Blair is not sure whether Serena has noticed, but she has also made sure to retain her seating because it keeps the status between the two of them unequal. She needs all the edge she can get.

"Sit down, Serena," Blair says with a hint of command in her voice.

Serena's eyes catch Blair's at that and she maintains the contact as she slowly sits back down. "B, I -"

"Do not call me that!" The glint of triumph Serena fails to suppress in her reminds Blair to collect herself. "You do not get to disappear, come back and pretend you can just pick up the pieces where you left them. You did it once and I forgave you. You promised. You promised me you -" She closes her eyes (because she is sure she cannot keep this up if she has to see the way Serena's eyes plead with her) and continues, "You do not get to call me that." She opens her eyes once again and does her best to look Serena in the eye. "Leave."

Serena stands up, pushing her chair back with a resounding crash and, before Blair can understand what is going on, Serena is in front of her and her lips have attached onto Blair's.

The breath Blair expels is hot and ragged to her ears. Her hands move up Serena's arms with a surety she is surprised to still possess and her fingers find their place in Serena's thick hair, her nails scratching at Serena's scalp, Serena's answering moan is a welcome sound. She tugs once, hard and Serena goes down on her knees with a grunt, but otherwise willingly and the height advantage, as always, gives Blair a sense of power she can never grow tired of. She runs the tip of her tongue along Serena's bottom lip, tasting the subtle hint of strawberries, before she moves back to assess Serena through heavy eyelids.

Serena's lips are open and Blair imagines her soft exhalations come in tandem with the pounding of her heart. Blair pulls at Serena's hair again and Serena winces before the length of her throat is exposed for Blair's perusal. Blair runs the tip of her fingernail along Serena's jaw line, down her throat with a bit more force and smirks a little as Serena attempts half-heartedly to wrest back the control. They are under no illusion that Serena is more than capable of turning the table on Blair, but they also understand how the game is played. It is about power and it is about control and it is always in Blair's hands. They may not play the game properly, but they play it well enough.

"You may touch me," Blair whispers. She is slightly surprised to hear how breathy she has gone, but Serena has always managed to do that to her. She lets Serena's hair go, but keeps the ends of it curled around a fist - like a leash.

Serena's eyes grow a little more alert at that. Already dark from arousal, they turn almost purple as they follow intently the path of her own hands as she rests the flat of her hands on Blair's thighs, massaging experimentally. Blair allows her legs to part, resisting the moan that is about to slip out. Everything about Serena seems to be about resisting temptation. It feels a little like living constantly with sin. It tastes oh so very sweet.

Serena's fingers slip beneath the skirt Blair wears and prods almost shyly at the line of her underwear.

"Do not get me dirty," Blair reminds Serena.

"Of course not," Serena replies obediently. Blair tugs at the hair she has in her hand. "Mistress," Serena adds.

"Good girl," Blair murmurs almost indulgently. At Serena's gentle nudge, Blair stands up so that Serena can work her skirt and underwear. Once Serena has set aside the clothing, Blair sits back down and moves her hips forward so that Serena has easier access to her. When Serena simply stares, licking at her own lips as if lost in thought, Blair hisses at her, "Don't keep me waiting. I don't have all day."

Serena responds as if she were in a race and the gun has only just been shot. She flows forward with a single-minded determination Blair has only seen in rare circumstances and her hands do a wonderful job of keeping Blair's legs pushed apart. Serena fucks her like only she knows how to. She alternates between being gentle and being rough, between using her teeth and using her tongue. She fucks Blair like she is worshipping a goddess and it makes Blair want to forgive and forget. The forgiveness is almost given when Serena finally pushes a finger in, when Blair finally lets a moan leave her lips. She keeps pushing and pulling as Blair comes completely apart and when Blair finally comes back down, she forgets her role and pushes upward to wrap her arms around Blair. "I've missed you, B," she whispers, her voice thick with emotions and desire.

Blair closes her eyes and inhales the smell of Serena and the unmistakable scent of her own musk. She is so tempted to be nice, but Blair knows Serena knows her well enough to not expect the forgiveness to be doled out on her first attempt, or her second, or her third. It does not stop the disappointment from showing on her face when Blair finally pushes her away. She takes in the sight before her: Serena with her mussed hair, her lips wet with Blair's come and smeared with her lipstick and the quickly disappearing scratch on her throat. She looks so very beautiful. "Leave, Serena," Blair tells Serena with a touch of gentleness.

"Blair!"

Blair stands up, moves around the still kneeling Serena and picks up her skirt and underwear. "I have a meeting in five minutes. Take some time to clean yourself up. Good day." She leaves Serena looking like a kicked puppy.

* * *

"How was Serena?" Jenny asks conversationally as she spears her fish.

Blair catches herself before she drops her fork and knife. Images of a flushed Serena run through her mind and she has to stop herself from adding audio to the memories. "Fine," she answers as she attempts to resist a smirk, "she was fine." Is that not the truth?

"So what did you two do?" Jenny looks content, almost as if she has not a care in the world. Blair absently tries to imagine how such a look will look on her own face. Absolutely unnerving, she decides.

"We ... talked, of course. Not for long. I was running late for a meeting." Blair tries her best to meet Jenny's eyes and makes a concerted effort to continue smiling.

"You should invite her sometime for dinner," Jenny suggests, chewing thoughtfully.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Blair says a little too sharply, a little too quickly.

"Why not? She's your best friend, isn't she?" Jenny responds carefully, raising an eyebrow at Blair.

"Fine. I'll call her tomorrow," Blair gives in after a moment of silence, picking up her cutlery once more.

"Good. How's the salad?"

"Just perfect."

* * *

Blair feels like her head is about to explode. Serena has not dared to look her in the eye ever since dinner starts, Jenny has seemed completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere between them and Blair has consumed too much alcohol to endure this torture fest.

When Jenny's cell phone finally rings and she tells Blair in a very apologetic tone that she has to run because one of her models has decided that she is not really cut out for the fashion industry and maybe her true calling is to become a hermit in the Himalayas, Blair can only smile back in return and bite back the relief she is so very close to voicing out loud. Once Jenny has disappeared, she levels her gaze more fully at Serena, whom Jenny has charged with the gentlemanly duty of escorting Blair home, and asks in a low voice, "I take it you don't enjoy this social outing either."

"Blair, I'm so sorry," Serena whispers.

Blair wants to laugh out loud or poke her eyes out with one of the pieces of the silverware that is set out in front of her; they look lethal enough to her inebriated eyes. "Coming from you, it doesn't really mean much," she hisses back, running a manicured finger down the sweating stem of her champagne flute.

"I am, B. I am very sorry," Serena pushes on, letting her hand covers the distance between the two of them.

Blair sucks in a breath and she simply watches the way Serena's thumb practically makes love to the back of her hand. "It's so unfair," she breathes, refusing to admit defeat by backing away and so she lets her hand remain where it is. "That you can just leave and come back and leave and come back. I'm not – I cannot, I do not want to be the one who always has to stay behind. I've told you before and I'm telling you again, I'm not a stop on the way, Serena. I'm a destination." Her voice is starting to shake and the more logical part of her brain is telling her to shut up, but her mouth seems content on going on and on and on.

"Everyone leaves me. They just tell me things I want to hear, they make promises they cannot keep, but I've always believed that you're the one that will stick around, you're the one that will be there when I get back from a long day at work." She blinks and is not very surprised to feel wetness coming away. "I want to wake up in the morning and complain about you hogging the blankets, about your limbs splayed all over the place without a care, about your kissing me without even having brushed your teeth." She pulls her hand away savagely and digs her nails into the hollow of her own palms. "Jenny stays, you know. She doesn't hog the blankets, she doesn't sleep like she's the only one in the bed, she makes sure to brush her teeth before kissing me in the morning."

Blair looks up to meet Serena's eyes and tries to push away the ache in her chest as she watches the tears fall freely from Serena's eyes. "She's not you. God knows I wanted you. I still do." She searches blindly for her purse. She slaps down a thick wad of bills. She does not even feel like staying around to pay by card. "But you left." Blair stands up slowly, making sure she looks fine before she flashes a sweet smile at Serena. "And that's all that really matters. You knew that and you messed up." She rounds the table and places a lingering kiss on Serena's forehead. "Good night, S." There is an audible sob as Blair walks away on slightly unsteady legs.


	2. Chapter 2

Blair remembers the first time like it was only yesterday.

Only she wants to remember it as a mistake, wants to remember the alcohol Serena's lips were laced with, the hasty way their fingers fumbled, the words tumbling out in an incoherent slur as they gave and take, pulled and pushed – all in the dark, all in the silence of an overbearing guilt (and when they woke to a new day, what happened would be another memory to be forgotten).

Blair so wishes the way she wants to remember it is the way it actually took place. If it were so, it makes it so much easier for her to forget; it makes it just that much less important.

But as it happens, Blair remembers every single detail, remembers the way Serena's hair practically glowed as the sunlight framed her, the positively indulgent scent of red roses in full bloom Serena cradled with both arms and the lovesick expression Serena showed so openly for the first time as she stood and Blair sat, Serena expectant and Blair shocked into silence – all in broad daylight, all in public and for all to see (if the privacy of the van der Woodsens' sprawling summer property could really be counted as public).

" _Please?" a younger (but not so young) Serena had asked and Blair imagined she would have liked to wring her hands had they not been otherwise occupied with the dozens of roses she had figured (hoped) would have won Blair's heart over._

_Blair had been tempted to be snide just to see how Serena would have reacted. "Please what?" she asked, feigning slow-wittedness, ignorance of that unfamiliar but oh so familiar gleam in Serena's eyes. That very same gleam sparked an awareness inside of Blair – of that near foreign sensation of an erratically thumping heart in her chest, against her ribs, acting like she was in a race and the finish line was just a few inches away (and in a way it was, if she considered Serena her finish line – God, she did not know she was such a closet romantic)._

_Serena blinked like she had been slapped and then she tilted her head the way she liked to when she was confused. "Kiss me?" she asked in a small voice. Her tone, her conduct, her very bearing was at such odds with her stature that Blair actually burst out laughing. Serena brought herself to her full height, looking affronted, insulted and very ready to cry._

_Maybe it was the steady rise of red in Serena's cheeks or the watering of her eyes, whatever it was it prompted Blair to say something, anything and quickly at that, "Here?"_

_Serena blinked again and Blair restrained herself from smiling. "Huh?"_

" _Do you want me to kiss you here?" Blair said slowly, clearly and her heart sounded loud to her ears (any louder and she was positive it would come jumping out of her mouth)._

_Serena sniffed and her bottom lip actually quivered as she looked at Blair with a little fear in her eyes, like she was waiting for the moment Blair would take the heart she offered and stomp the life out of it with her latest pair of Manolo Blahniks (and the knowledge warmed Blair like nothing else could – or should). "Do you want to?"_

_Blair wanted to tell Serena, confess to Serena that she would die if she did not kiss her that very moment, but decided that Serena was being melodramatic enough for the both of them and went for a more sensible response, "If that is what you want."_

" _You don't have to if you don't want to," Serena murmured stubbornly and her eyes looked down (away and even her hair began to dim in dejection)._

_Blair resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead stepped forward to grasp firmly at Serena's elbow. "Don't be a child," she told Serena before using her free hand to cup Serena's face and then kissing her earnestly - all before Serena could really register what was going on._

_When they finally pulled apart (crushed rose petals sticking to skin and fabric and Blair was positive she felt a thorn - or two - prick her fingers and maybe if she let go of Serena's hip there would be a few splotches of red left) and it felt like ages before they did, Serena let go of the roses she still held and blinked a couple more times. She smacked her lips together then whispered against Blair's slightly swollen lips, "Can we do that again?"_

And Blair remembers the sincere, oh so very sincere expression Serena wore surprisingly well. She had ached at being the one the expression was directed at: she ached then and she still aches now - for Serena, for the feelings that once felt so freeing and now simply serve to stifle her, suffocate her (until all she seems to see is a lot of black and a little flash of blonde hair and a little whiff of that perfume Serena seems so fond of). Blair wants so badly to believe that this time, this one _final_ time, Serena has come home to stay. Only she has chosen to believe Serena's promises before and look where that has landed her: in bed with Jenny Humphrey and the million pieces of her heart in a box in a corner of Serena's closet.

Blair knows, understands what she needs to do. She needs to tell Serena goodbye, tell Serena to leave and never ever come back. She needs to tell Serena that she is in love with Jenny, that there is simply no room for a Serena van der Woodsen in her life.

But whom is she trying to fool? She knows so very well that she needs Serena and it sounds too much like a bad cliché, but she needs Serena like she needs to breathe (like she needs to know the other side of the bed will not be covered in cold sheets). She has survived the years of Serena's absence only because she has known that Serena is gone. Now that she knows Serena is not gone, is actually _here_ , she cannot simply tell her goodbye (how do you tell the other half of your heart, the other half of your soul to leave and never ever come back?). Blair cannot tell Serena that she is in love with Jenny because she is not and it seems cruel (to Jenny, Serena? Blair cannot tell) to tell such an obvious lie.

Blair tosses and turns and finally sits up to throw the covers off of her. Her skin feels hot and she feels a little feverish (like she has just been kissed and touched and phantom handprints are left all over). She is obviously not getting any sleep tonight. Again. It has been three days since the awkward dinner Jenny had proposed to have with Serena and this is the third night in a row that Blair has found sleep elusive.

When she sleeps she dreams of Serena and when she does not sleep she finds Serena in all the shadows covering her room, hears her voice in the silence of a typical New York night (and she keeps expecting to turn and find Serena lying next to her). The memories, Blair is loath to admit, are coming strong, even stronger than ever before and Blair feels so close to giving in, to giving up. Only she cannot give in, cannot give up. Eleanor will laugh at her if she gives in this quickly – no, if she gives in. Period.

Blair turns and looks down at Jenny, looks at the way her hair covers her own pillow and strays over to cover Blair's. Not for the first time does Blair find herself thinking (wanting, wishing) that Jenny's hair is a little longer, a little richer – a little more like Serena's. Blair closes her eyes and thumps her head hard against the headboard. She needs to figure this (Serena) out.

* * *

"Serena!"

Serena's head shoots up from the coffee she has been staring into while waiting for Dan to show up and her eyes catch Dan's across the busy coffee house. She stands up, barely noticing the way her chair clatters noisily into the chair of the person just behind her, and waves him over. Dan makes quick work of the crowd and he appears before Serena in record time. "Hey," she greets and waits till he puts down the steaming mug of coffee he has in one hand before leaning down to envelop him in an embrace.

"You've gotten taller!" Dan notes, a hint of accusation in his voice, as he pulls back from the embrace and he is not exaggerating either. He actually has to look up now to make eye contact.

"I've always been taller than you," Serena teases. At what she knows is a very poor put-on affronted look even for Dan, she adds in a more sober tone, "I'm just a little taller than before and remember – it's not the height that makes a person, it's the content of the person."

"Yeah, yeah," he replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "putting aside your unnatural growth spurt and, really, I insist we put it aside. How have you been?"

Serena gives him a small smile that simply screams sadness and gestures to the other chair at the table she has been sitting at. "Why don't you take a seat first?"

"Uh oh, sounds particularly serious," Dan ventures as he does just what Serena has suggested.

Serena smiles tightly at him. "It's Blair."

"Huh, why am I not surprised?" Dan comments, blowing at his coffee before taking a sip. "So what about our esteemed Queen B?"

"I thought you were friends?" Serena says a little evasively.

"Oh, we are, we most assuredly are. I guess spending as much time as we did around each other really can force the unlikeliest of people to do the most unthinkable of actions - becoming friends, for example. But really, stop avoiding my question and start answering. What about Miss Waldorf?"

"She's angry," Serena states shortly and it is such an understatement that she feels like laughing. "At me," Serena adds unnecessarily, like he needs the additional information.

"I'd be surprised if she's not," Dan remarks. Catching Serena's crestfallen expression, he quickly goes on to add, "I mean - wouldn't you be angry if you're in her shoes? You've been gone for how long now? Five, six years? We haven't heard a single thing from you since that summer you came back after your first year at Brown!"

He shakes his head and takes another sip of his coffee. "I can forgive you because I was already your ex-boyfriend when you left for Brown, you two were just starting to date. We," Dan gestures to Serena and then to himself, "were and are friends. I can forgive you for taking off without telling me anything. Blair wasn't just a friend, Serena. She still isn't just a friend." Dan frowns a little. "What is she anyway? Your ex-girlfriend? Your best friend? What is she exactly? The two of you have so much unresolved issues that I can put a novel together based on all that you've got going on!"

"I guess I've been gone for a little too long," Serena says listlessly, a little more defeated than the day before (and she pointedly ignores the way Dan rolls his eyes in response to her words). It is not like she has not noticed. She has - and maybe she is simply grasping at straws or trying a little too hard to reproduce scenes from an old memory, but she needs to try to patch things up. Blair is the only reason she has come back, Blair is the only reason for anything she has ever done.

"How do you intend to explain yourself, Serena? Even if you can, I really doubt Blair will listen for long enough to forgive you. Even if she does listen for long enough, Blair is not exactly the forgiving type – actually, scratch that, Blair is most definitely _not_ the forgiving type and you know that part of her better than I do," Dan points out reasonably. "How do you redeem yourself?"

Serena is starting to regret choosing Dan over either Chuck or Nate to talk to. But she really needs to talk to someone who will actually listen, who will actually give her good advice. However, neither Chuck nor Nate is the kind of friend who does or offers what she requires of them.

And she is forgetting Jenny. She is going to ask Dan to hurt his own sister. But Serena really has no options (or maybe she is conveniently closing her eyes) and she is simply asking for Dan to listen, not to do anything to facilitate the improvement of her relationship with Blair.

"I can't. I can't explain myself and I don't know how to explain myself," Serena tries, wills him to understand (but she does not need to make _Dan Humphrey_ understand), "I have no excuse and I'm not going to bother trying to find one. I got scared and I ran off. It was as simple and as complicated as that."

Serena pulls a paper napkin from the dispenser and begins picking nervously at it. "I want so badly to tell her that I've finally grown up, that I've found myself." She gives a hollow chuckle, bites her bottom lip and fights back tears. "I finally know what I want, _who_ I want, who I've always wanted. It was Blair before and it's still Blair now." She exhales raggedly, takes another napkin and begins to shred it with a vengeance. "I got scared and I ran away. I've been gone for six years and I've been stupid enough to believe she would be waiting around for me." She pauses for a beat. "She's with Jenny, you know."

"I know."

"Yeah, I guess you'd know, wouldn't you?" Serena laughs a little and tears actually start trailing down her cheeks. She makes a half-hearted effort at swiping them off. "Jenny is going to be so hurt if things work out for me and Blair."

"I know."

"But I love her so, so much."

"I know," Dan tells her and Serena cannot tell by now whether he is simply being sympathetic or not (but she is so grateful that he is simply being a friend and not the voice of reason).

"I love her so much," Serena whispers and breaks down completely.

* * *

"You okay?" Jenny asks as she pokes her head into Blair's home office.

"Yeah," Blair answers distractedly, taking off her glasses to look at Jenny. "Why?"

"It's past midnight and you're still working," Jenny points out, coming in and exposing more than a little of her nudeness in the nightgown she has on.

"I'm just busy, that's all," Blair says vaguely. She does not want to tell Jenny that she has trouble sleeping because that means she will have to tell Jenny what, _who_ is bothering her so that she actually has trouble sleeping.

"It can't be anything that can't be put off till tomorrow morning," Jenny remarks, resting her hip against Blair's writing desk and barely glancing at the papers Blair has covering the surface of the desk. They have agreed to keep out of each other's professional lives. It makes for much less problems in their private lives. "Come to bed, baby," Jenny whispers, trailing her big toe down Blair's bare leg.

Blair has the sudden urge to recoil from Jenny's touch. Her stomach actually feels upset at the mere thought of going to bed with Jenny. "No, Jenny. I should really finish this," she tells her in what she hopes sounds like a firm tone.

"Fine," Jenny sighs. "Make sure you get some sleep though." She leans down to press her lips against Blair's before standing up to leave.

Blair waits till Jenny is gone and far away enough before wiping the taste of her lover off of her lips.

* * *

"How do you feel?" Dan asks tentatively. He has steered her out of the coffee shop and led her to his apartment. There have been furtive glances cast at him and he swears more than a few think he is the cause of Serena's sudden outbreak of tears.

"Better, thank you," Serena tells him, sniffling and accepting the new box of tissues he offers her.

"You sure? Because I'd rather you be sure."

"Yes, I'm sure, Dan. I'm sorry for bawling like that. I don't know why I did that. I've never been so embarrassing before while I'm still sober."

"There is always a first for everything."

"Stop being a smart-ass."

"But I thought you loved that about me."

"We were dating when I told you that."

Dan rolls his eyes. "Seriously though, how do you feel? More importantly maybe, what are you going to do now?"

Serena looks at him in the eye and says carefully, "If I choose to pursue Blair, you do realise it's your sister that is going to end up hurt?"

"Only _if_ you choose to pursue Blair."

"Okay. I should have said _when_."

"Okay. Well, I guess in my defence I can always say I've never won any 'Brother of the Year' awards and I'll send all our bills to you while I help Jenny recover from her broken heart."

"Dan, I'm _serious_."

"So am I. Alcohol doesn't come cheap nowadays, you know. And playing babysitter to your baby sister when both of you are in your twenties? So not cool."

"You've never been cool." Serena sniffs again. "Thank you."

"I know. And you're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ooh, I must thank both dauthik (or shadowings) and xstaplegunnedxx for looking this over!


	3. Chapter 3

Jenny's breathing sounds harsh in the silence of their bedroom and her thighs quiver ever so slightly as Blair pulls her fingers out (warm and wet). There is a heaviness pressing down on Blair's chest – something like guilt or an even uglier emotion she dares not name (and it wants to climb out and into the open so badly) – and she cannot bear to look up and meet Jenny's eyes.

Jenny's fingers move and begin to trace lazy lines and even lazier circles up and down Blair's arms. And the way her lips map, mark Blair's skin is so familiar, but the way Blair is responding (and Blair is _trying_ so hard not to respond the way she very much wants to – recoil or maybe pull away) is so unfamiliar that it almost feels like she has just made love to, no, has just had sex with a complete stranger. Blair feels like throwing up or crying, but most of all she feels like she needs to get away from Jenny (fast) – every second she spends this close to Jenny beats down on her conscience like it never should.

"You're shivering," Jenny whispers and her voice is (rightfully) soft, gentle, _intimate_.

Blair shudders once again and it feels a little like confirming (Jenny's) suspicions (of nameless ghosts, or maybe it is just _one_ ghost and its name starts with her most favourite letter) or denying herself the right to lie to get out of this mess. "I'm cold," Blair replies and she makes to pull back – only she is torn between knowing that she should want to stay close to the warmth Jenny offers and the instinctive need, urge to turn away.

Jenny does not answer right away and in the silence that follows, Blair imagines all the thoughts that must be running across Jenny's mind – none of which seems to bode well for her. "Are you – getting ill?"

"No," Blair answers immediately and the relief (at not being discovered) is so _tangible_ Blair feels she needs to give form to it by chuckling – and she does, maybe a little more loudly than is strictly necessary. "I guess I'm just exhausted."

"Really?" Jenny sounds doubtful, a little irritated – or is that offended? – and she stares at Blair like she very much wants to glare.

"Really," Blair assures her and she feels a raging headache coming on. "Can we just go to bed?" She pushes Jenny away a little, gently but firmly enough to get the message across. "Can we just _sleep_?" she clarifies.

Jenny gives Blair another look (the one that looks like she _knows_ ), but she finally sighs, gives in. "Fine," she tells Blair, forces herself to smile and leans in to give Blair the obligatory good night kiss.

Only Blair turns at the very last second and the wet press of Jenny's lips against her cheek sounds, feels like a reprimand (a silent one, but a very real one). "Good night, Jenny," Blair murmurs and turns her back promptly on her lover. Blair does not fall asleep until the night recedes and the day comes back to knock on drowsy eyelids – and to tell the truth, the morning does not take too long to come.

When Blair turns to face Jenny's side of the bed, she is greeted with cold sheets (and what does it say about her that she does not notice that her girlfriend has been missing for sometime now or that she does not very much care?) and what looks like a hastily scribbled note: "Sorry. I need some air. Love, Jenny." Blair reads it for the second time, for the third time – until finally she loses count and the note has become too crumpled, too creased, too caught up between her fingers and all that is left for her to do is to throw it away.

* * *

Serena taps her right foot rhythmically against the floor – the _click-click_ of her stiletto heel is a welcome distraction from the otherwise clinical quiet of the lobby of Blair's apartment building. She looks up and watches the awfully slow way the elevator is making its descent.

Sighing, she turns her eyes elsewhere, restlessly and smiles distractedly at the security guard who has been kind enough to let her in (once she has fed him a good story or maybe two: that it is Blair Waldorf's birthday and Ms. Waldorf will undoubtedly appreciate it if he lets Serena up to give Ms. Waldorf the surprise of a lifetime – especially because they have not seen each other since practically forever).

"You okay there?" the guard calls out, tilting his cap toward her like they are caught up in a particularly bad rendition of a cowboy movie.

"Yeah, it's just taking ages to get here," she replies, gesturing at the elevator with her thumb to clarify what 'it' is.

"Always happens," he says genially (and Serena keeps expecting, waiting for him to strut over with his thumbs tucked into his belt hoops). "It'll get here soon enough."

"Yeah," Serena answers good-naturedly, but she so wishes that the elevator would just get here already. _Just spare me all the extra tension_. It is already taking all of her infamous bravado to actually come _here_. It is so not helping that she is made to wait, to brood, to think of all the disastrous ways in which this endeavour of hers can very well end.

She has not really thought this plan through, to be honest. She simply hailed a cab, shocked the poor man into driving her to the nearest bakery, bought herself way too many bagels, jumped back into the cab and then made the driver (whose name is Otto, by the way, and she giggles a little at the recollection) race all the way to Blair's apartment building.

Now that she is here, she suddenly remembers, no – maybe she simply chooses to forget till now, that Blair is not exactly single – _major logistics problem for the success of the plan_ , she thinks, that Blair has Jenny living with her (and even after talking it out with Dan, she still feels guilty about what she is about to do – guilty, but not guilty enough to actually stop), that it is only eight in the morning and she is acting as if they are still in high school, as if life is still a lot simpler, as if their biggest concern is still Gossip Girl – or some other people that really does not warrant their concern. The sudden ding of the elevator arriving snaps her out of her reverie, gives her enough time to save the bagels (which she has taken to squeezing her untimely outburst of jealousy – and she wonders absently what squashed bagels will be called).

"There you go," the guard remarks. "Told you it'll get here."

"Yeah," Serena says and her voice sounds tight, a little choked – a little like a broken record, but she has no time to spare to see how the guard will react to the change in her demeanour. She wants to pause to consider the wisdom of her actions, of her actions-to-be. And really, she does not deserve to be forgiven – but she is getting ahead of herself, jumping into rather baseless conclusions that Blair will forgive her, assuming that she will not outright kick her out of her apartment.

Serena chuckles a little as she steps over the threshold and into the elevator. She presses the button for the penthouse and waits for the doors to slide close. _What am I worrying myself about? I never really think ahead, anyway. What happens happens and all that matters is whether Blair will take me back or not_.

* * *

Blair groans and burrows deeper into her pillow. She keeps expecting, waiting for Jenny to return, to wake her up with some obscenely loud, romantic gestures. Except Jenny has not returned – _which is only glaringly obvious_ , she snaps at herself – and there are no obscenely loud, romantic gestures for her to wake up to. Blair reaches blindly for her phone and cracks one eye open to check the time and maybe also to see whether Jenny has attempted to call her – _which she has not, thank you very much_ – not that Blair will notice anyway. _Eight thirty_. She sighs and puts the phone back down – screen first, Jenny can try to call all she wants, but Blair is so not going to answer any of her calls, so there.

Blair wraps the covers more tightly around her and tries to go back to sleep, drown out the concerns of the real world and, just for one day if that is not too much to ask, escape to la-la land (with no Serena around to haunt her).

Only the doorbell suddenly rings and interrupts her entire plan. Blair squeezes her eyes shut and clamps her lips down on the curses attempting to burst through. She wants to ignore, wishes just a little that it is Jenny standing on the other side. Only it does not make a lot of sense that Jenny would not have the key to her own apartment. _Whatever, Dorota can take care of it_ , Blair thinks. But the doorbell continues to ring. _Right, it's Sunday. Dorota doesn't work on Sundays_.

Blair drags herself out of bed and picks up the first nightgown (Jenny's and it hangs a little large, a little loose on her) she sees as she makes for the front door. Running her fingers through her hair, she begins to reach for the door handle. "Who is it?" she calls out without really looking at the person who has disturbed her impromptu Sunday plans.

"Hey," the visitor replies uncertainly and her voice sounds familiar.

Blair looks up quickly, alertly. "Serena."

"Blair," Serena answers and a weak smile graces her lips. She holds up the brown paper bag she holds in one hand like one would a peace offering and says as cheerfully as only Serena can manage, "May I come in?"

* * *

"I don't like this," Blair declares and she wraps the nightgown more tightly around her – her eyes are trained steadily on the television screen and the volume is turned down so low that the sounds of Serena being restless, being Serena is the only relevant noise. Blair's legs are curled underneath her, close to her own body, but not far away enough from Serena's sprawling legs that some parts of their bodies are still touching. Blair huffs (but does not move away – she will not admit it, but she likes the burning in, _underneath_ her skin from the contact and she thinks she sees a smirk playing about Serena's lips as well).

"You don't like what?" Serena asks, playing foolish, innocent, naïve, whatever – she sounds far too amused to Blair's liking.

Blair can feel the way Serena's eyes are fixed on her – like Serena can see her weak spots, count them out, name them, maybe spread them out for a leisurely picking – and the heat of her gaze is an unwelcome sensation (like it is a prelude to _more_ and Blair does not know what more is, but she hates that she cannot help but want to know where more can take them). She shifts on the couch again and tries not to notice how Serena has failed to choose any of the other available seating arrangements in the living room. "This," she hisses and slaps Serena's straying foot away. "I don't like this." And Blair gestures (expansively, nervously) at Serena, at herself, at the blatant lack of space between their two bodies. She drops her hand limply and sighs heavily. She does not understand (herself, Serena, the situation – everything it seems).

"Do you want me to leave?" Serena asks, but she does not make to move – the now empty paper bag she still holds in her hands rustles and crackles (astonishingly loud for such a small thing and Blair winces).

Blair purses her lips and watches the movements of the newscaster's lips (and not the way Serena fidgets, she tries – and fails – to assure herself). "No," she answers.

"Do you want me to stay?" Serena asks again, and this time her voice is a little smaller (or is it a little louder and Blair's ears have simply chosen to shut down?), her legs are tense where they press against Blair's and Blair can see the way her jaw clenches, the way her shoulders are set as Serena waits (for her sentence, by the look on her face).

Blair bends over to pick up the remote control she has dropped to the floor earlier. She clasps it in both hands and plays with the knobs, turning up the volume, then turning it down again (and the alternating assault of cacophonies and harmonies become simply that after a while – an assault). Serena keeps quiet the whole time, stays tense for what feels longer. "No," Blair says again and her throat feels strangely raw – like she has just shouted too much, has just talked too much, but she has done neither – her throat simply, still feels too raw to be normal.

"What do you want, Blair?" Serena asks in a ragged voice, like she is punctuating the space between each word with a sigh or a hot breath, like when they were children and Serena had pressed on every piano key much longer than she had ever been required to (and the teacher had demanded Serena leave the room and let Blair finish practice for once). "If you don't want me to stay, if you don't want me to leave, what do you want, Blair?"

"Of who?" Blair asks and it is a little surprising how weighty these words sound when they fall out of the confines of her lips. "Of you?"

"Who else?"

"Are we playing word games now?" And Blair feels the insane urge to smile.

"No. Just answer the question."

"I don't know. Honestly I don't."

Serena sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. "Just answer me, Blair. You're Blair Waldorf, you _always_ know what you want."

Blair chuckles and it is hollow, the sound falls light, falls unreal, falls like tears (and she imagines it breaks as it hits the ground). "I thought I did." Blair tilts her head to the side and away from Serena. "I thought I knew what I wanted, I thought I knew _who_ I wanted. I thought I wanted you."

" _I_ want you. I wanted you, I still want you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Blair sighs. Again. _This is becoming a habit_ , she thinks. She always gives and not because she loses – not really, but because she hates the thought of being the victor (in these tug of war battles where the victor is decided based on purely chance, luck – none of which she possesses in abundance like Serena). "No, you don't want me," Blair tells her and she knows she is starting to sound angry. "If you want me, you would have stayed. If you want me -" Blair closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I can't do this again. You are the unhealthiest person anyone can ever be in a relationship with. I – I just can't do this again -"

Blair never gets the chance to finish because that is simply not how things work with Serena. Blair plans and plans and plans, but all Serena ever has to do is smile and toss her hair and everything is ruined. Only this time ruin tastes a little like instant coffee (because Serena only thought to come with bagels and nothing else – and Blair was not about to go to all the hassle of brewing proper coffee for someone who dropped in like they still had all the right to), like bagels (and too much butter, too much jam), like Audrey on Sunday mornings (but there is no Audrey on this particular Sunday morning, only Serena and Blair and a Jenny-shaped bubble between the two of them just _waiting_ to explode), like –

"No," Blair breathes. And the rejection comes out softer, gentler than Blair intends it to be. She puts her hands on Serena's shoulders and tries to scramble away, but her efforts are half-hearted and she happens to like the weight of Serena on top of her (like the weight of sweet memories). "No. Not again."

"What? Why?" Serena asks and she blinks. Once, twice, thrice and it is on the fourth time that she begins to cry – fat, thick tears rolling down her cheeks and her voice grows thick, scratchy (and Blair almost feels like they are sixteen, or even younger, once more).

Blair can tell her it is because of Jenny, it is because she cannot forgive Serena, it is because they have grown up and should attempt to not make mistakes, but they would all be lies and she does not have the heart to lie again. "Go," she murmurs, pushing at Serena with a little more force. "Please. Just go."

"Blair," Serena whispers and there is a hint of a whine in the way she says Blair's name.

"Serena, please," Blair whispers back and she looks into Serena's eyes, catches her tears with the pads of her thumbs, with the flat of her tongue, with the caress of her lips (and Serena keeps blinking and blinking and _blinking_ , and every single time her eyelashes brush against Blair – wet, ticklish and salty).

"B," Serena pushes out the letter like it refuses to leave her mouth and she moves off of the couch even more reluctantly.

"S," Blair capitulates the nickname to make it easier for Serena, for the two of them. "Just – just go. Please." Blair watches Serena stand up slowly and finally leave, a nonverbal sort of communication carrying on in the way their eyes lock onto each other.

Until finally the front door closes and the slam that is not really a slam marks the end of another interlude between Blair and Serena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I must say thanks to dauthik (or shadowings) – who took the time off vacation to beta, you're awesome! – and xstaplegunnedxx for looking this over!


	4. Chapter 4

Blair hates that she cannot quell the flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach, that little bit of hope that this will be the one time Eleanor will pull through for her, will prove herself the mother she has never been. It is another one of their monthly lunches – the Waldorf women's latest attempt at forging a connection that Blair is seriously beginning to consider is simply never meant to be.

Nevertheless, Blair finds herself once again making her way to the table she has reserved for the two of them. Blair has hopes that Eleanor can manage to be there before her for once. Certainly not on time, that will simply be much too optimistic of her, bordering on the unrealistic almost. But that is why Blair has made sure to arrive late (a concept that she is personally finding a difficult time to be comfortable with); so that her mother may have all the time she can possibly need to actually be there.

The wave of disappointment that rises and washes over (crushes) her at the sight of an empty table is nothing she is a stranger to. It is in fact one of those childhood demons that she has thought to have successfully conquered. How very mistaken she is and now Blair has to deal with the consequences of having given her mother too much credit.

The maître d', Joseph, looks almost apologetic as he holds her chair out for her. "Would you perhaps like to place your order first, Ms. Waldorf?"

Blair takes her seat with a grace she has been almost sure she will not be able to summon and flashes a smile that is much too perfect and polished at Joseph. "No, thank you, Joseph. I would prefer to wait for my mother to arrive."

"Very well, Ms. Waldorf," Joseph answers politely. He gives a small bow before turning around to take his leave.

Blair hates the waiting process, hates the idea, especially hates to be the one made to wait. She has done all too often in the past – for her father, for her mother, for Serena, for so many people she nearly loses count (except she does not and she remembers every single disappointment and she broods over them with near unhealthy frequency and intensity).

She should have reached that point in her life where she simply no longer tolerates this kind of treatment. She sighs. Maybe this is why she likes being with Jenny so much. On the contrary, Jenny happens to do the waiting out of the two of them and Jenny apologises so earnestly whenever she has caused Blair to have to wait.

"Traffic is just awful. You won't believe how much trouble I went through to get here," a voice suddenly interrupts Blair's musing (and she supposes she must be grateful for the intervention because her thoughts have taken a decidedly depressing turn).

Blair looks up slowly. How typical of her mother. She is the one who is late and yet she gets away with acting like it is actually Blair who has wronged her. _Not even one word of apology_ , Blair notes bitterly. "How magnanimous of you to finally join me, mother," Blair remarks with barely restrained sarcasm.

Eleanor lifts an eyebrow and pauses in the act of flipping through the menu. "There really is no need for you to be smart with me, Blair."

"Of course not, _mother_ ," Blair hisses under her breath, though she is not really attempting all that hard to be discreet with her displeasure.

"I really tried my hardest to be here on time, Blair," Eleanor says and her tone, as always, is a little too patronising, a little too self-righteous (and there is a vein just waiting to pop in Blair's temple). "You really don't need to make this any more difficult than it already is for the both of us."

Blair snaps the menu in her hands shut with an audible click and levels her mother with a glare as poisonous as she can make it. "Why, mother, if I had tried as hard as you allegedly have, I'm pretty sure I'd have given up on you ages ago already. In fact, I probably should have given up on you ages ago." Blair shakes her head, as if to clear her thoughts or maybe to stop this crimson she sees in front of her from spreading (and she just can just imagine – no, she can just _strangle_ her mother now!). "I can't be here," she murmurs, almost to herself, but certainly not quiet enough that Eleanor will not be able to pick her words up. If Eleanor so happens to miss the words, she definitely will not fail to understand what Blair intends to do as she begins pushing her chair back and makes as if to stand up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Eleanor asks and there is a palpable touch of alarm in her voice. Maybe the thought of having to dine alone (or perhaps more accurately, being seen having to dine alone) in such a place scares her mother out of her wits. Eleanor is a little superficial that way.

"Where do you think I'm going?" Blair drawls back in response, gathering her things efficiently and resisting the decidedly childish urge to roll her eyes (and maybe stick her tongue out) at her mother. "I'm going home. It's obvious this lunch is becoming too much of a chore to bother myself with."

"Sit down, Blair," Eleanor says in her best commanding tone, but there is the slightest hint of an actual tremor in her voice.

"No," Blair answers firmly with hardly a moment of hesitation. "I'm an adult, mother, in case you've failed to notice – the way you've so successfully failed to notice most everything else about me. I've grown past the age when you can order me around and expect me to actually do as told." Blair stands a little taller and it does help that she is standing and her mother is not. "I don't see myself enjoying lunch with you and I no longer need to force myself to endure it for your sake."

Eleanor blinks. "Don't you dare take that tone with me –"

"You don't get to tell me what I can or cannot do!" Blair snaps back and she watches with relish as her mother's composure shows some cracks at her unexpected retort. She knows that Eleanor is not used to being stood up to, that Eleanor expects people to scurry over when she crooks a finger. Blair is well aware that she herself used to be that person, but not anymore. "If you cannot be civil with me, then I'd rather leave."

Eleanor looks torn between regret and outrage. When she opens her mouth to begin speaking, Blair steels herself for whatever insensitive dregs Eleanor will certainly lavish upon her. "I apologise," she says in a small voice and, judging by the strain in her jaw, it has taken everything she has to push those words out. "Please sit down, Blair."

Blair reels back in shock and catches herself before she can trip over her chair. "I beg your pardon?" she stutters.

"I apologise," Eleanor repeats – in much the same manner as someone who is trying to learn a new language: stiff, awkward and most definitely a little reluctant.

Blair thinks her jaw must have dislocated permanently. She snaps her jaw shut and carefully sits down again. "Alright," she mutters warily. Blair has never before heard her mother apologise. To say that Blair is surprised would be a major understatement.

"So, how was your week?" Eleanor finally breaks the silence and Blair is grateful that she has not been made to take the first step.

"Tiring, but productive," she says tightly in response, stifling a grin (and maybe a few tears) from breaking through. Eleanor is offering such a stiff smile at Blair and it is so painful to look at that Blair can actually believe that her mother is being sincere this time. "How was yours?"

"So-so," her mother answers. There is an infinitesimal drop in the tense set of Eleanor's shoulders that speaks so loudly of relief and Blair almost concedes that maybe lunch with her mother is not as much of a torture as she previously thought it would be when her mother continues. "How's Jenny?"

Blair swallows the groan that fights to escape. "Fine, just fine," she says pleasantly.

"I heard she's having a show this fall," Eleanor persists.

"She is?" This is the first time Blair has heard of this and she is once again ridden with guilt, knowing that she has failed to pay attention to what is going on in her own girlfriend's life. "I mean, of course she is. She's amazing." She wills her mother to change the topic, begs whatever deity will listen to make her mother change the topic – Jenny is not a topic she is comfortable to touch.

"I'm happy for her. She _is_ quite talented," her mother comments remarkably honestly. "I heard Serena was back in town."

Blair feels her eyes close on their own accord. _This is so not happening_. "She is," she replies shortly and hopes against hope that her mother gets the hint.

"Have you met her yet? How is she?" her mother asks almost excitedly and Blair hates that she notice that her mother is much happier talking about her childhood best friend than about her current girlfriend.

 _Help me_. Blair fights to maintain the smile on her lips and thinks of an appropriate response to the barrage of questions Eleanor has posed.

* * *

"How did it go?" Dan asks without preamble. He proceeds to drop heavily into the space next to Serena on the loveseat and turns to face her with what Serena instantly decides is an overly eager expression – especially considering that what he is interested in revolves around his ex-girlfriend, his own sister and a schoolmate that he has spent the better part of his high school years trying and failing to avoid.

"How did what go?" Serena answers evasively, not quite meeting Dan's eyes.

Dan elbows her sharply in the ribs and growls playfully, "You know what. Tell me. Come on. Spill."

Serena taps her nails against the handle of the coffee mug she holds in her other hand and answers slowly. "Horribly. It went simply horribly." She winces at the memories Dan's question brings to the forefront of her mind. She has called Dan out to meet her at the coffeehouse once again for the express purpose of relating to him the utter failure of her visit to Blair's apartment the day before. She has not expected that it will be so hard to tell Dan all that she is dying to tell him.

"How so?" Dan presses, picking up his own mug from the side table where he has deposited it earlier.

"She kicked me out," Serena provides a little unwillingly and tries to ignore the sympathetic look Dan offers her. "Not right away." She remembers (a little too vividly perhaps) the way Blair has responded to her kiss (like they have never stopped to begin with) and the fact that Blair has given her a glimmer of hope by doing what she did is perhaps why the rejection stings the way it does. "But she still kicked me out," Serena murmurs, bringing the steaming mug to her lips. "And she didn't even give me a single good reason why."

"I don't understand," he announces then frowns. He begins to shake his head a couple of times and adds, "Well, maybe I do. I mean she is still involved, you know."

"With your sister," Serena says morosely.

"A fact that I really am trying my best not to remember, thank you very much." Dan glares at her and Serena ignores him. "All I'm saying is that maybe you should just wait for Blair to be _uninvolved_ before you do anything."

"I hate you and your logic," Serena snarls.

"I'm all too aware," Dan retorts back without missing a beat, "And I suffer daily for my sacrifice, but someone must be the voice of reason in these times of chaos and –"

"Shut up," Serena snaps, swatting him on the arm and rolling her eyes when he begins laughing in response. "Boys," she murmurs under her breath.

* * *

Jenny has not come home for some time now. Or maybe she has and Blair has somehow managed to miss her at every _single_ opportunity _. Oh, whom am I trying to kid?_ _Jenny is probably avoiding me like the plague._

Blair cannot say that she is too surprised to see Jenny's name flashing on caller ID late that same day after having lunch with her mother. _It's about time._

"Blair," Jenny greets her (and Blair is pleased that there is no significant background noise wherever Jenny happens to be – at least neither of them is with someone else).

"Jenny," Blair returns in an admirably steady voice, tightening her grip on the pen she had been using prior to accepting Jenny's call. She checks that her office door is still closed as she waits for Jenny to say something. _Anything_.

"How have you been?" Jenny asks.

Blair can just imagine how nervous Jenny must be (she can hear it in the way Jenny modulates her tone too much, the way Jenny chooses her words too carefully), can just imagine the way Jenny runs her teeth across her bottom lip as she tells herself to keep on talking. "I've been better," Blair allows. "How are you?"

"Good," is Jenny's automatic reply, but she sounds so detached, so not like herself that the lie becomes a little too easy to see through. "Not really," she admits honestly after a few moments have passed. "I've seen better days myself." There is another pause where only the mingling of their breathing serves as a reminder that neither has hung up.

"We need to talk," Jenny tells Blair and her voice gentles considerably as she tries to soften a blow Blair has expected to come for some time now (and Blair cannot help but fall in love all over again with _this_ side of Jenny – and it once again occurs to her that it will be so much easier if she can just fall in love with Jenny the person, not just facets of Jenny that appeal to her).

"Yeah?" Blair whispers and she never means it as a question, wants it to come out as a sign of her agreement, but it is too late to retract the word.

"Yeah," Jenny affirms and there is a burr in her voice (like she is trying not to say what she has just said).

"How about eight tonight?" Blair tells Jenny in a soft voice. She wants, _needs_ to set the pace for this. She has to be in control of _something_. Things are unfurling a little too quickly, spinning out of her grasp and she has no idea where they are headed. "At that new bar just outside of my office? It's called Heaven. You can't miss it." She suspects a neutral setting is something both of them will be grateful for.

"Okay," Jenny responds quickly, readily. "I'll see you then, Blair." There is another pregnant pause as they both wait for the silence, for something to break, to _change_.

Blair does not say anything, _cannot_ say anything to acknowledge Jenny's last words. She simply hangs up quickly, as tactfully as she can manage without saying the words necessary (if there is even such a thing as that).

* * *

"So," Dan drags the word out childishly and looks at Serena expectantly.

"What?" she asks exasperatedly. She hates it when anyone looks at her like _that_ , like they want something, but she has no idea what it is that they want from her.

"Nothing," he says, shrugging and shifting into a more comfortable position and jabbing his knee into her thigh in the process and having Serena swat at him in the arm in return (again). "Fine, there is something. Just – and I'm well aware that this question is going to sound old real soon. What are you going to do about Blair?" He fixes her with a meaningful look and then continues, "She obviously has a more than adequate willpower when it comes to your indisputable charms." He suddenly presses the flat of his palms against his cheeks and makes an exaggerated expression of shock. "Or – or could it be that you've lost your touch?"

Serena rolls her eyes and punches him half-heartedly. Dan brings out the child in her. "I don't know what I'm going to do, which is only too obvious. If I knew what I'm going to do, I wouldn't be here asking for _your_ advice, would I?" She swings her feet to and fro, and only stops when she accidentally kicks against the coffee table set in front of them. Mouthing her apology to one of the staff when she turns around to look disapprovingly at her, she turns to Dan with an embarrassed smile and continues, "The only concrete plan I really have is go at Blair with all I have until I wear her down."

"Not much of a plan, is it?" Dan comments dubiously.

"Never said that it was," Serena tells him, puffing her cheeks and pouting. "But I'm not exactly good with plans anyway. That's Blair's kind of thing." She bites at her bottom lip. "I'm just going to go with the flow and hope that it'll take me somewhere."

"Yeah. You know where it'll lead you? The end of the road, that's where, with giant, flashing signs with 'DANGER' written all over them in lurid colours," Dan supplies helpfully.

"Are you on my side or not?!" Serena hisses, pinching him this time.

"Ow, ow," Dan whines. "Since I do care about my own continued well being, I suppose I don't have much of a choice but to be on your side, do I?"

"Gee, thanks. What a friend," Serena quips.

"I know, right?" he says brightly. "Now, why don't you go buy me another coffee? I'm about to land from my caffeine high."

* * *

Blair stands in the doorway and surveys the area with a quick sweep of her eyes. She has been to Heaven once before to entertain clients of hers and it does not come as too much of a surprise that it is already quite packed considering the early hour. The patrons of Heaven are generally respectable, white-collar workers from the surrounding area looking for somewhere quiet to wind down after a hard day at work.

It does not take Blair too long to find Jenny (or at least she hopes that has to be how Jenny looks like from the back, but she cannot be too sure in this lighting). The younger blonde has a penchant for sitting at the bar whenever she is in this sort of establishment – _a part of her upbringing in the wrong side of town she carries over_ , Blair imagines. Blair makes a beeline for Jenny and disregards the lingering looks of appreciation she receives as she crosses the room. "Jenny," she calls out once she has merely a few more steps to go.

Jenny turns slowly and smiles at Blair. She stands up and quickly covers the distance left between the two of them to give Blair an embrace. "Hey," she breathes before pulling away to press a chaste kiss against Blair's cheek and smiling.

"Hey," Blair murmurs in response, smiling back.

"Do you want to get a table?" Jenny asks thoughtfully. She knows that Blair prefers the privacy tables/booths can afford and the bar cannot.

"Please," Blair responds gratefully.

"Just one second," Jenny tells her. She turns to pick up her drink and she spends some time conversing with the bartender. Jenny finally turns around after a few moments and proceeds to lead Blair to an empty table in the corner. "I ordered a gin martini for you." The noise level in the bar is relatively low, tolerable enough that it makes it possible to communicate without having to resort to shouting. "Extra olives, just the way you like it," Jenny adds with a knowing smile.

"Thank you," Blair replies.

Jenny takes her seat after Blair has taken hers and then the two of them proceeds to sit in a silence that Blair simply cannot decide is comfortable or awkward while they wait for Blair's drink to arrive.

Blair accepts the drink with a relief that does not befit when it finally arrives. "So," she says and looks up from her drink to meet Jenny's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Jenny blurts out rather suddenly.

"What for?" Blair asks, honestly perplexed with what appears to be a non sequitur.

"For walking out on you the way I did," Jenny imparts, taking a nervous sip of her drink and expelling a breath.

"You had all the right –"

"No, I didn't. I should have, I don't know, I should have waited or something. We should have talked. But no, I had to act like such a child!" Jenny's hands dart across the surface of the table and grab onto both of Blair's. "Please, please forgive me."

Blair's heart begins to sink. This is definitely not how she has envisioned their encounter will be like. She has expected Jenny to at least throw her drink at her. "Jenny, I – no, this is so –"

"Just tell me you forgive me. That's all I need," Jenny whispers and her voice is hushed, sincere, a little between breaking and broken (and Blair just cannot say no).

"Jenny, you know I can't not forgive you," Blair utters and the words sound so thick, so inflated (how can Jenny believe such lies?). Blair closes her eyes and fears to open them again. She does not want to see what Jenny looks like as she listens to her.

"So, does that mean we're okay? We're fine?" Jenny asks and she sounds impossibly young, impossibly hopeful (and Blair forgets why she wants, wishes, _prays_ that they will be breaking things off this very night).

"Yeah," Blair says after what feels like ages. "We're okay." Jenny surges across the table and very nearly topples both of their drinks down as she does so. The kisses Jenny rains all over her feel so _painful_ and she cannot, will not admit to Jenny that the tears she is shedding do not have the same meaning as the ones Jenny is releasing. _I am_ so _going to hell for what I have just done – and I'll probably deserve it too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I must thank dauthik (or shadowing's) and xstaplegunnedxx for looking this one over!


	5. Chapter 5

" _I'll make a promise with you," Serena told her in a voice that dripped of conspiracy._

 _Blair crinkled her nose, held her head a little higher and refused to admit burgeoning interest. Serena had that twinkle in her eyes that promised to lead them to a world of pain. Not that that had ever stopped Blair from going along with whatever Serena had cooked up. Though Blair supposed (and she came so close to convincing herself) that there must be a time when a young girl reached maturity and gained the wisdom to say no to her best friend. "What promise?" she asked quietly, careful to keep her tone even, dispassionate._ Obviously, that time is not now _, she thought to herself._

_Serena beamed, practically glowed and there was this disarming warmth in her eyes as she looked at Blair that made the brunette want to reach over, pinch the blonde's cheeks and make those horrible sounds old ladies like to make while holding babies. "Come here," Serena replied and she gestured for Blair to scoot over._

_Blair looked down at the space between them._ Or, more appropriately, the utter lack of it _, she noted. While Serena's bed was ridiculously huge, the two of them always found one excuse or another to end up destroying the concept of personal space. "S, I'm practically sitting in your lap," Blair pointed out reasonably._

_Serena rolled her eyes and reached out her hand. She tugged at Blair's elbow and it was hard, surprisingly strong given Serena's slender frame (and were they not still thirteen?! Blair thought indignantly, no thirteen year-olds should have that kind of strength in her) and came as a complete surprise. "I meant for you to come here," Serena said blithely, an annoyingly innocuous smile gracing her lips._

_Serena's hand was still wrapped around Blair's elbow and Blair was lying sprawled across Serena's lap. She was stunned, but it was high time that she sat up and taught Serena not to yank her around like that. Except her thoughts were headed for the inappropriate and decidedly not innocent and she was more than a little flushed, considering the circumstances, to know that her breasts (while technically shirt-clad) were pressing into Serena's all too bare thighs. "Very funny," she finally croaked out and she pushed half at the bed and half at Serena's thighs (and her hand burned where it made contact with Serena's skin) to sit up._

_Serena let loose a giggle, which – in typical Serena fashion – grew and swelled into full-blown laughter. "Sorry," she offered half-heartedly when Blair levelled her with a glare. "You should have seen the look on your face. Okay, maybe not." She took a deep breath and tried to stifle the aftershocks of mirth. Her shoulders shook helplessly and it was Blair's turn to roll her eyes at Serena. "Sorry."_

" _What did you want to say?" Blair asked with a patience she should really be awarded a medal for._

" _What?" Serena returned the question, looking honestly perplexed._

_Blair tried and failed to resist the urge to roll her eyes again. Serena frowned at her and the frown only deepened when Blair began chuckling. "Sorry," she told Serena, brushing her fingers against Serena's arm. It had to be illegal how adorable Serena got when she forgave and forgot as quickly as she was wont to do. "What did you want to promise me?" she reminded Serena, allowing her best friend to play with her fingers._

_Serena's brows pulled together and then pushed away and the smile returned in full force (as if it had never disappeared in the first place). "That's right," she said brightly. "I wanted to promise you something."_

" _Yes, that," Blair answered indulgently, liking immensely the way Serena's fingers threaded through hers._

_Serena pulled gently at Blair's fingers and Blair leaned forward in compliance. "You know how you get really sad when your father leaves when summer ends?"_

_If that question had come from anyone else, Blair would have punched the living daylights out of him or her. Actually, she had never been the physical sort of person, but given that no one had ever had the nerve to pose the question to her – well, she might very well find out she could be a very physical sort of person. But this was Serena asking and Blair answered, "Yes."_

" _And you're always so down whenever your mother fails to turn up for – well, anything really. And then Nate, Chuck -" Serena stopped herself. She gave an apologetic smile at Blair and squeezed the hand she was now holding with both of hers. "Well, you want to know what my promise to you is going to be?"_

_Blair rolled her eyes. "Don't keep me in suspense, van der Woodsen. Just spit it out."_

_Serena pouted briefly, but her smile returned as quickly as it disappeared. "Well, everyone can leave for all I care," she declared. Serena continued quickly when she saw that Blair was about to smack her into next week, "But I'm going to stay."_

_Blair blinked and blurted out before she could stop herself, "What do you mean?"_

_Blair had never known Serena to have a poetic bone in her body before that day, but what she said that afternoon to Blair – as they sat so close to each other on Serena's bed that Blair started to hurt from where Serena's knee jabbed into her leg – was the most beautiful thing, in Blair's thirteen year-old mind, anyone had ever said to her. "When everyone's gone," Serena said gently. "I'll still be here. When you don't think anyone's coming back to you, I will. I'll be there to welcome you home after a hard day at work. When you forget that someone's waiting for you at home, I'll come and fetch you. I promise to be here," Serena squeezed Blair's hand again, "I promise to be by your side for as long as you'll have me."_

_Blair felt a sob breaking through and her throat was closing up. Choking was not the reaction she wanted to have, but it appeared as if she had no choice in the matter. "If I want you to be here forever?" she asked, staring hard at Serena, willing the blonde to be sincere, more so than she normally was with Blair. "Will you still promise me the same? Will you promise me forever?"_

_Serena's gaze gentled and softened. The fire was gone from her words when she spoke next, but that warmth Blair loved so much in Serena's eyes had replaced it and it made Serena's next words that much more precious. "You're my Blair-bear. Of course I promise you forever."_

Blair's head pounds with a vengeance and it is definitely not a welcome sensation when Jenny's overly chirpy voice filters through the fog that has wrapped around her mind. "Go away," she growls and turns into her pillow, hoping against hope that Jenny will get the hint and just disappear.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," Jenny calls out in a singsong.

 _No such luck_ , Blair grumbles to herself. "What's the time?" she grouses, running her hands sluggishly through her hair and generally feeling like she has been run over by something big and heavy and decidedly careless. She has to narrow her eyes to make out Jenny, who so happens to be in the process of throwing the curtains open. _Cruel woman_ , Blair thinks, trying not to whimper as sunlight assaults her sensitive eyes.

"Seven," Jenny replies, still sounding like she has, for the first time in her life, just been introduced to the wonders of sugar.

Blair winces a little and promises to herself that she will never ever touch another drop of alcohol again. _Yeah, right_ , one of her inner voices – the one she personally likes to dub Serena – provides with a scoff. At least she has a high enough tolerance that she will not have to skip work to worship the porcelain god. Blair presses a hand against her stomach. "Isn't that a little too early for you?" she asks, carefully moderating her voice to a level she will not be uncomfortable with.

"Normally," Jenny allows as she makes her way back towards their bed. "But I'm having breakfast with my brother."

"Dan?" Blair asks before she can stop herself. _Of course it's Dan_ , she scolds herself, _stupid_.

"The one and only," Jenny says and if she notices the slight Blair makes, she does not say anything. "So, I'll see you tonight." Jenny sits down on Blair's side of the bed and rests a hand on one of Blair's legs. Blair has to actually fight the sudden need to recoil and move away. _This is so bad_. "I was thinking," Jenny goes on, blissfully unaware of Blair's inner turmoil. "That we should go out to dinner tonight. Maybe go dancing after that? It's been ages since we've gone out just for some casual fun, just you and me." Jenny leans forward and cups Blair's cheek gently. "Besides, you did hit the sheets a little too quickly last night for us to properly _make up_." Jenny waggles her eyebrows suggestively. All Blair feels is her stomach giving out and away. _Maybe worshipping the porcelain god is not such a bad idea after all._

"I guess I didn't know my limit as well as I thought I did," Blair offers lamely in defence.

"So, about dinner," Jenny prods insistently when she realises Blair has yet to acknowledge her invitation.

"Maybe not tonight, Jenny," Blair replies stiffly, trying to ignore the brief glimmer of hurt in Jenny's eyes when the blonde registers her words. "I have a client to entertain." _I'll make sure I have a client to entertain_. "I'm sorry."

Jenny smiles and Blair wonders how she manages to pull herself together so quickly. "That's okay," Jenny tells her, leaning closer. "Dinner can wait. We have all the time in the world."

Jenny leans in and presses her lips against Blair's unmoving ones. _I'm in hell_ , Blair decides as she makes a concerted effort to respond.

* * *

"No, mom," Serena whispers exasperatedly into her phone as she paces in her brother's living room. Eric rolls his eyes and kicks half-heartedly at Serena's restless legs. He simply holds his hands up in defeat when she glares at him after dodging his kicks. "I'm not trying to avoid you. I just haven't bothered to get myself a cell phone." She sighs. "No – of course I love you. I know I spent nine months in your womb, mom. You tell me often enough." She drops heavily onto the couch next to Eric and begins banging her forehead against his shoulder. "No, I'm not being smart. Yes – fine, I promise to come over for lunch sometime." She winces. "Okay, fine, tomorrow." She jumps suddenly and holds the phone within a foot of her poor ear. "Okay, today!" she shouts into the receiver. Her mother's berating is loud enough that Eric can catch snippets of the now one-sided conversation. She nudges Eric and gestures at the phone for much needed help.

Eric groans and grabs the phone. "Mom? It's Eric. Yes, please, thank you. A normal voice level will be very much appreciated. Yes, I'll make sure Serena comes over for lunch. What?!" He glowers at Serena without a warning. "But I –but I – oh fine, I'll come over as well." He rubs his eyes. "Alright, yes, I promise as well. Okay, goodbye, mom." He turns the phone off and tosses it onto the coffee table. Eric keeps his eyes shut for a couple more moments before finally turning to face Serena. "You so owe me for this."

"Well, if I have to suffer lunch with mom, so do you," she points out.

"Ugh, but I wasn't the one who skipped out on law school to go hopping halfway around the world," he grumbles.

"Of course not," Serena answers indulgently. "And that's why you're the baby brother."

"I hate you," Eric tells her, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest.

"You love me," Serena retorts without missing a beat, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Fine, I love you," Eric relents, chuckling.

"My baby brother!" Serena teases before she pounces on him to attack his ticklish spots.

"Get off me, you brute!" Eric laughs. "Seriously, Serena, come on." When they both have their breathing and themselves under control, Eric tries again, "Now, tell me why you were so eager to see me that you forbid me to see friends the moment I got back into town?"

"Because I miss you so much?" Serena says innocently.

"Bull," Eric counters shortly. "Now, tell."

"Oh, fine. You're even worse than Dan," Serena complains, blowing a raspberry.

"So mature," Eric remarks.

Serena rolls her eyes at him. "Well, fine, it's about Blair -"

Eric groans. "And here we go again. Should I go get some refreshments before you go on? I foresee the need to prepare for a long-winded discourse on the very esteemed subject of one Blair Waldorf."

Serena scowls indulgently at him, but trudges valiantly ahead with her narrative.

* * *

"There you are," Jenny declares. Dan makes to stand up, but Jenny quickly puts her hand on his shoulder to stop him. She plants a small kiss on his cheek in greeting as she passes his seat before then taking her seat opposite him. "I wasn't too late, I hope."

"No, of course not," Dan answers with what Jenny can tell is the beginning of a sarcastic remark. "Granted that I was about ready to sprout some flowers if you hadn't come and interrupted the beautiful process nature had intended -"

"Dan," Jenny cuts him off with what is most obviously a doting tone.

Dan pouts. "It's quite unfair that you get away with calling my sarcasm without being the slightest bit impressed or unfazed. I'll have you know that I put in a lot of effort -"

Jenny pats his hand indulgently. "What's good here?" she asks as she flips open a menu, all too aware that she is blowing her brother off.

Dan puffs his cheeks. "Try the Spanish omelette."

* * *

Blair finds her attention wandering continuously throughout the day – her thoughts straying in no particular direction, jumping from Serena to Jenny and back again. It was bad enough that she nearly botched the deal with the Japanese representatives; now she is barely paying attention to her regional managers as they update her on progress or, in the rare cases, decline. "Pardon me," she speaks out suddenly, holding her hand up for visual emphasis. "Let's take a small break."

"But, Ms. Waldorf, we've just started -" one of the regional managers begins to interrupt.

Blair turns in her seat and faces the man, who very obviously has no idea how much trouble he has found himself in. The others have begun to push their seats away from him, allowing Blair to zero in on the poor man with no other distractions (of course that is disregarding the ones already existing inside her head). "Mr. Lang, if I'm not mistaken?" she asks pleasantly and watches with pleasure as a bead of sweat appears over his upper lip.

"Correct, Ms. Waldorf," he croaks out and he seems to grow smaller in his chair.

"Correct me again, if I'm mistaken, but I so happen to be under the impression that _I'm_ your superior and not the other way around." Blair quickly adds before Mr. Lang gets the chance to regain his faculties, "In fact, I so happen to think I'm the CEO and chief shareholder of this firm." She bestows upon him a positively sweet smile and Mr. Lang begins to whimper a little. "Am I mistaken, Mr. Lang?"

"No, Ms. Waldorf," Mr. Lang whispers and Blair is almost impressed that he manages to say something. Almost.

Blair returns her attention to the rest of the room. "Let's take a break. I expect you all back in here in half an hour. No less and no more." With that, she stands up and leaves the conference room.

* * *

The good thing about being a fashion designer is that one is rarely tied down schedule-wise and one is mostly allowed, when the circumstances call for it, to spend most of one's morning entertaining one's brother – who seems to have taken an unnatural interest in one's relationship.

"We're fine," Jenny tells Dan for what is starting to feel like the hundredth time. "Why are you so interested anyway? You used to start singing in that awful off-key tone you have whenever I bring up Blair at the dinner table."

"First of all, I do _not_ have an off-key tone. I think," Dan says in a self-righteous voice. "Second of all, can't a brother be concerned? You are my favourite sister after all."

Jenny tosses a slice of cucumber at Dan. "I'm your one and only sister, doofus," she counters.

"Precisely my point," Dan replies brightly. "At least I think I have a point. Regardless, don't Blair and you ever get in a fight or something? That's not normal, you know. I mean, even Vanessa and I get in a fight. Sometimes. When the moon is blue. You get what I'm trying to say."

Jenny looks down to find another cucumber slice to throw at her brother, but finds she is out in that department. She considers asking for a plate of them. _For_ _ammunition_ , she thinks. "Of course we fight," she finally answers in a small voice. She hates, hates, _hates_ when they fight and she definitely does not like that Blair rarely puts much effort into making up. _Don't think about that_. "But we're mostly fine. Otherwise, why would we still be together? I love her, Dan."

Dan looks wounded for a moment, but he recovers quickly. Not smoothly, but quickly enough that Jenny can pretend that she does not see what she knows she has just seen. He reaches across the table and takes her hands into both of his. When he finally speaks again, his voice is gentle and slow (like a doctor's before administering that injection that does not _ever_ feel anything like a mosquito bite) and there is a strange glint in his eyes. "But, are you _in love_ with Blair, Jenny?"

Jenny feels her eyes tearing up and she wants to snatch her hands away from Dan. She closes her eyes and sniffs as quietly as she can manage (because crying in public is definitely not cool and that was one of the first things Eleanor Waldorf taught her), "Please don't ask me that."

* * *

Serena sits stiffly and has to keep reminding herself not to fidget, not to shake her legs, not to let her eyes roam – basically, not to be herself.

"Is something wrong with the appetiser?" Lily asks, lifting an eyebrow.

Eric's eyes flick to meet Serena's and she glares as she watches Eric try half-heartedly to swallow the laughter she is sure is bubbling to come out. "No, mom," Serena answers quietly, pushing the food around with the back of her spoon. "I just don't have much of an appetite," she adds honestly.

Lily puts down her spoon and dabs at the sides of her mouth delicately. "Okay," she says carefully and watches the way Serena's eyes move about nervously. "Will you tell me why you suddenly came home?"

Serena quickly bites back the answer that attempts to push out: _This is not home. Not yet anyway_. "Am I not allowed to come home?" she returns the question.

"I didn't say that," Lily responds evenly. "Though anyone would naturally wonder what, or _who_ , gave you enough reason to return when you've obviously seen fit to disappear for six years without any news." Lily sighs and lifts her glass of water. "At least the first time you disappeared, you kept in touch with your family."

"Aren't you the least bit angry with me?" Serena blurts out, not able to keep up with the tension.

"I'm not. But I was most assuredly angry with you." Lily glares at her daughter and neither mother nor daughter seems to pay attention when Eric makes some flimsy excuse about needing to go to the washroom. "You turned down Harvard Law School. Any mother would have been angry. I need not remind you that you proceeded to fall off the face of the earth almost immediately after." Lily sighs and Serena is almost surprised to see that the years have slowly but surely caught up with Lily. "But six years is a long time to keep being angry. I'm just relieved to know you're still alive and in one piece after all this time. What happened?"

Serena finally gives into her urge to fidget. She cannot help it. Dan did not ask for the details. He took what Serena gave and that was it between them. Eric knew a little more, but that was only because he was more determined than Dan. Even her brother did not know the full details of her disappearance though. He was too kind and he stopped just before she could tell him everything. "Blair happened," Serena whispers softly. She has never told her mother about their relationship, though they never did make much of an effort hiding either.

"Why am I not particularly surprised?" Lily groans. "If I hadn't given up alcohol, now would be the perfect time for a good bottle of scotch."

Serena smiles guiltily. "You knew?"

"I'm not as stupid as you girls would like to think," Lily answers. "I didn't know, but I did suspect." Lily sighs. "So, what happened with Blair?"

"I got scared," Serena murmurs shortly. She has told both Dan and Eric the same thing and it is not like she is telling a lie. It simply is not the full truth.

"Of what?" Lily presses.

"I don't know how to explain it," Serena mutters, spreading her hands in the hopes that that will somehow help. "I woke up one morning and there she was in my arms. And I was looking down at her and my chest felt so full, like it was about to burst, you know? And I've always told her before then that I loved her. But, it was at that moment that I knew she was it." She looks up at her mother. "She was _the one_. And I knew I didn't just love Blair, I was in love with her. I was so in love that it hurt, that the thought of being without her scared me half to death." Serena smiles sadly. "But, there lies the irony. It was because I was so in love with her that I got scared. I'm going to sound real cheesy, but I realised she had such power over me. If she were to tell me come, I would. If she were to tell me go, I would. And what if – what if she wasn't in love with me?" She shakes her head. "I got scared."

"That's rather selfish of you," her mother says gently.

"I know," Serena replies. "I keep beating myself over it, but that doesn't make what I did any less selfish. So, I left and hoped I – I don't know, maybe I hoped I would love her less if we were far away. But I missed her so much. I kept telling myself: 'Just a little further, just a little further and you'll be able to forget her.' It's just -"

"You couldn't," Lily interjects.

"No," Serena accepts. "I couldn't. I still can't. I'm still so in love with her that it's scary. In fact, I probably love her even more. But, I'm not scared this time, not anymore. I want to be _with_ Blair. I want to grow old with her." She chuckles emptily. "That's so cheesy, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Lily comments, "but love makes you all kinds of stupid."

"I agree," Serena sighs.

There is a surprisingly comfortable silence during the pause in conversation. "Serena, you do know that Blair is – involved?" Lily remarks cautiously.

Serena groans loudly. "So everyone keeps telling me. I can't do anything, but wait now. I was foolish to let her go and I can't force my way back into her life like I have any right to be there. But, I want to be there so badly." She sighs. "I was stupid."

"I'm probably biased because you're my daughter, but, sweetheart, you're in love. You're allowed to be stupid."

"Tell that to Blair," Serena grumbles.

* * *

Blair takes a deep breath and expels it. She takes another deep breath and expels it again.

"Ms. Waldorf?" the familiar voice of her secretary breaks timidly into the peace she has so carefully crafted as she hides away from the world in the private bathroom connected to her office.

Blair groans in frustration and forces out, "What?"

"You told me to come and get you when half an hour is up," her secretary replies in a less than confident tone. "The regional managers are waiting in the conference room for your return."

Blair closes her eyes and tells herself to pull it together. It is quite unfair of her to mow down innocent people just because she is currently having a personal crisis of sorts. "Thank you," she says in a calmer voice. "Please let them know that I will return shortly."

"Very well, Ms. Waldorf," her secretary breathes out in what Blair notices is a very relieved tone before scampering away to inform the regional managers.

"Great," Blair hisses at her reflection as her knuckles begin to turn white from gripping the edge of the vanity too hard. "Just freaking great. All it takes for my life to turn upside down and off track is Serena to return and Jenny to be unable to take a hint. Just great."

* * *

"How do you feel?" Dan asks carefully, feeling an all too real sense of déjà vu as he runs a comforting hand down his sister's back. They are back in Dan's apartment. Though they failed to escape quickly enough that the patrons had time to glare disapprovingly at Dan as he rushed to escort Jenny out of the café. _Yup, definitely feeling a déjà vu here_.

"Better, thank you," Jenny whimpers.

"You sure you're okay?" Dan says gently, keeping a hand hovering over a new box of tissues. _Just in case and not because I'm an insensitive bastard_.

"Yeah. Thank you," Jenny replies in a stronger voice. She turns to face Dan. "Thank you, Dan."

Dan feels more than a little guilty for baiting his own sister to this extent. "There's no need to be so formal. I _am_ your brother after all."

Jenny smiles at him. "Yeah, sometimes I forget that," she teases him.

"Hey!" Dan says playfully back. Jenny simply chuckles in return. Dan waits until they are both quiet again before asking softly, "You're not in love with her, are you?"

"No," Jenny whispers through gritted teeth. "But, I love her just the same. I'll make this relationship work, damn it!"

Dan does not have it in his heart to tell his sister that maybe she should not be trying so hard to make it work. "Yeah," he chokes out when it becomes obvious that Jenny is expecting a response. "Yeah, you'll make it work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Many thanks to dauthik (or shadowings) and xstaplegunnedxx for looking this chapter over!


	6. Chapter 6

Blair's shoulders slump and her steps are unsteady as she ventures through the doors and into the lobby of her apartment building. Her purse is clasped in seemingly flimsy fingers and her legs seem to refuse to cooperate as she tries to navigate through paths that feel and look uneven. Funny that she has never known that the security guard is one third of a set of triplets or that all three are employed here.

Blair somehow manages to drag herself into the elevator, tripping over her own feet more than once during the short trip. Once she has made her way inside, she pointedly ignores the curious stares of nosy neighbours. Blair is somewhat glad for the respite as the elevator grows emptier the higher up they go until finally she is all by herself.

She stumbles out of the elevator at the top floor and giggles to herself as she catches her own reflection in the windows as she trudges through the corridor. She feels and looks defeated (like she has the ghost of a lifetime's worth of disappointments weighing down her shoulders) – Blair has never seen herself look so horrible before. That thought gives rise to a sudden surge of mirth and she would have gladly given it to the urge to give voice to it. Only the sentiment is most definitely out of place and, judging by the way her throat is scratching and the way her tongue feels thick and sandpapered, Blair doubts she would have been able to laugh had she wanted to.

Blair reaches the door of her own apartment; crashes into it with what should be a resounding crack. It is only on account of the increasingly louder buzzing in her ears that the noise barely registers and she can easily dismiss it as an echo of something that occurs far away, somewhere decidedly remote and irrelevant. Blair begins to pat her own person for her apartment keys. Frowning a little when she fails to turn them up, she opens the purse that is still dangling from the crook of one elbow and overturns it.

The contents come spilling out, thudding dully against the thickness of the carpet and Blair has to bend down with some difficulty to pick up the keys she has just spied to be among the clutter. She sweeps the rest of her things back inside the purse and groans a little more loudly than she intends to as she pushes herself back up. She hates how alcohol makes her feel like she is twice, no, thrice her age.

The door opens silently and for that, Blair is immensely grateful. Blair conveniently forgets that she has just made enough commotion to wake the dead. She peers carefully into the darkness and hopes against hope that Jenny has the good manners – or, really, the bad manners – to not wait up for her. It is, after all, nearly two in the morning (at least it was the last time Blair has thought to check) and most people really should be in bed by now. Should they not?

Blair frowns again and shakes her head a little. She can just tell that there is a flaw to be found in the arguments she has just made. She just does not have her wits about her to figure what that flaw is. _None of my concern_ , she tells herself as she turns to close the door behind her and cringes visibly when the lock clicks into place. Loudly. Very loudly.

Blair waits a beat and holds her breath in for good measure. Pleased and relieved that the apartment remains as still as she has found it, she bends at the waist to remove her heels and prepares to sneak through. That plan is immediately shot down when the lights flicker on and Blair sees that a very angry and determined-looking Jenny bars the way leading out of the foyer. Blair quickly straightens up, hiding the heels promptly behind her as if that can help make her feel and look any less guilty.

"Where have you been?" Jenny asks in a deceptively calm tone, her eyes set almost mercilessly on Blair.

Blair tries very hard not to wince, but she suspects that _that_ reaction may very well be much more tolerated than the one she initially has upon sighting Jenny – which is to turn on her heel and bolt right out of the apartment. "Entertaining a client," Blair tells Jenny in a voice obviously very heavily saturated with alcohol. "Like I told you." The fact that Blair needs about half a minute to come up with a decent response does not escape Jenny's observation.

"I called your secretary about six hours ago," Jenny begins carefully. Her arms are so tightly crossed over her chest that Blair is a little concerned that Jenny may suffocate herself. "I was informed that 'Ms. Waldorf has gone home for the day and if she had had any clients to entertain, unfortunately Ms. Waldorf has failed to enlighten me."

Blair falls back a little and she is surprised that her voice sounds strong when she defends herself and the lie that has become all too obvious, "I don't need to remind you that I'm under no obligation to tell my secretary everything. Or anything at all." Blair makes a mental note to fire her secretary the very next day.

"No," Jenny agrees and there is a strange look passing across her face – something between sadness and anger and what Blair perceives to be a healthy pinch of suspicion. "I don't suppose you are. Obviously, you didn't see fit to inform _me_ either."

Blair sways on her feet and she is once again reminded that she is very, _very_ drunk. The heels she hides behind her back slips from her grasp and bounces slightly off the carpet when they fall. She reaches blindly behind her for something to support her suddenly jelly-like legs and her hand thankfully finds purchase on the door handle. "I'm not," Blair murmurs, not quite sure what it is that she is not. A cheater? A liar? An evil person? Maybe she is all of the above. Blair has to fight to keep her eyes open and Jenny's insistent third degree is not helping. She sways again and her knees nearly buckle under her weight as she begins to balance.

Jenny rushes forward and concern is written clearly on her face. She stops short of touching Blair and her voice has a noticeable edge to it when she speaks again, "Are you _drunk_?" Her eyes flash yet again and Blair has to remind herself that laughing is probably not the reaction Jenny is looking for.

So, Blair settles for a snicker instead. Judging by the look on Jenny's face, the snicker does not go over very well either. Blair shakes her head and groans loudly when she simply worsens the pounding. She leans back and lets her back rest on the flat of the door. It feels good to allow some of her weight off of her feet and the door handle jabbing into the small of her back reminds her to stay awake. _It's all good_. "Couldn't you tell?" Blair finally rasps when she realises that Jenny is waiting for a response.

"You reek," Jenny hisses and she reaches forward to wrap a hand firmly around Blair's forearm. "I've never seen you this drunk since school! What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?"

Blair slaps Jenny's hand away and retorts sharply as her ire rises in the face of what her inebriated condition takes to be Jenny's self-righteousness, "It's none of your business what I do or do not do. So I'm drunk. Big deal."

Jenny positively glowers, twin splotches of red appearing on the high of her cheekbones as she makes to hold Blair up once again. "It's none of my business? Are you out of your mind? I'm your lover! Of course it's my business if it seems like you're trying to drink yourself to death? That's what you've been doing, right? You've been drinking every single night recently!"

Blair clenches her jaw and makes to push herself off of the door to respond. Instead the hand she has kept on the door handle slips suddenly and she finds herself falling. Absorbed in her own predicament, she misses the way Jenny's anger dies out to give way to worry before fear then takes place. All Blair knows is that the next time she has her eyes open, her cheek is pressed into the carpet, her head is pounding worse than ever and her stomach feels like it is about to give out and maybe heave itself through her throat. Blair groans once, blinks again and tries her hardest to stay awake. But oblivion wants to claim her so insistently and, after a while, she simply loses the will to resist.

* * *

Blair comes to with an unforgiving hammering inside and at her head. Her throat, her arms, her back, actually everything feels horrible. First and foremost, however, she feels the acute need for water. She croaks out her request and fails not to wince at the sound of her voice. A blonde head, the features of whom she cannot really make out through heavily bleary eyes, pops into her line of vision and Blair whispers, "Serena?" before she can stop herself.

"Thank God," she gushes, forgetting the thirst she has just been so concerned with and feeling the telltale and embarrassing prickle in her eyes that warns of impending tears. "I had the most horrible nightmare," she confesses in a murmur, not pausing to let 'Serena' the chance to hedge in and voice herself in case Blair wakes up a second time to find that what she has thought to be a nightmare is in fact not.

"I dreamt you were gone again," she speaks softly. "You were gone for so long. But you came back eventually. Only I was already with someone else." Blair takes a deep breath before continuing, "It was all so, so horrible. I hurt so much. So, so much that I wanted to cry and never ever stop." Her voice is a little ragged when Blair adds, "But it's okay. It was just a nightmare. You're here with me after all."

Blair closes her eyes and wills the smell that is uniquely Serena to suffuse her being, but only this unfamiliar scent assaults her senses – and while it is not unpleasant by any stretch, it also is not the one she happens to be desperately seeking. "Serena?" she asks, opening her eyes again and trying to make out the features of this blonde who is obviously not Serena. But her eyes fail her and her memories too as she tries and fails to rack her brain to come up with the identity of this stranger.

"Go to sleep, Blair," comes the blonde's voice finally in a tone that simply screams stiffness and control.

Blair sighs and closes her eyes. She wants to ask where Serena is and why she is not by her side. Maybe, maybe once Blair has found out all about that, she will ask the blonde who she is and why she is by her side instead of Serena. For now, her eyes are heavy and she just wants to sleep.

* * *

Serena is not by any chance a morning person. She wakes slowly, half-heartedly and most definitely with a lot of complaints on her part and a lot of yelling from whomever happens to be living with her at the time. It so happens that this time Eric seems to have drawn the short straw and he sounds like it too. His voice is hoarse as he hisses in her ear to "get up and stop that noise because some people, namely me, would like to sleep in during their rare days off from school."

Serena sits up groggily, feeling more than a little dazed, and watches Eric walking out of her bedroom, muttering obscenities under his breath that would either make Lily very proud or very angry depending on what time of the day it is. She blinks a couple more times before turning sluggishly to the alarm clock on her bedside table. "But – but it's only four," she whines to no one in particular and empty air does not make a good listener. The doorbell rings again, more persistently than before it seems. She huffs, pouts and begins hauling herself out of bed.

Patting barefooted to the front door, Serena skips over peering through the peephole and goes straight to opening the door. Eyes still half closed, she murmurs thickly, "Don't you know what the time is?"

"You bitch!" a familiar voice suddenly snarls.

Serena's eyes snap open quickly, but her sleep-addled brain register Jenny's presence a little too late to warn her of the oncoming slap. "Jenny?" she asks, more shocked than outraged as her hand covers the burning spot on her left cheek. The girl is surprisingly strong for her size and Serena makes to pull back in case Jenny feels the need to repeat her performance.

"You bitch," Jenny repeats in a calmer tone, one that somehow manages to convey even more venom. _Maybe stepping away is not such a bad idea after all_. Serena gauges the distance between the two of them and keeps a hand warily on the door handle, ready to slam the door shut in Jenny's face should Jenny look like she is ready to deliver another slap. "It's not enough that you're everyone's Ms. Perfect. You just have to steal her from me as well. You just have to sidle your way back into her life and -"

Jenny's nostrils flare and she glares at Serena. "You have no fucking idea how much I hate you. You just have no idea how much I'd love to -" Jenny pauses in her tirade and takes a deep breath before pushing on, "But she needs you. It's so wrong! She's sick and she keeps calling out your name. She keeps thinking I'm you." Jenny rubs her eyes roughly and asks in a voice rough and small from lack of sleep and emotional toil (both of which Serena has recently found herself becoming an expert on), "Why am I not enough? Why can't I be enough?"

Serena swallows discreetly and steps away carefully. "Why don't you come in, Jenny?" she says with a forced smile.

* * *

"What's going on?" Eric asks in a bewildered tone as he ambles as quickly as he can manage into the living room. His shirt is on backwards and inside out, his hair is adorably mussed up and his eyes are struggling to stay open. Eric has just managed to go back to sleep, just glad that the knocking has stopped when he hears shouting and the very distinct sound of a slap. Fearing the worst has happened, he has immediately got up and, once he is dressed, proceeded to check on the situation and to hopefully find his sister still in one piece at least.

"Oh, it's nothing. Go back to sleep," Serena answers a little too quickly, a little too cheerfully as she jumps off of the couch and rushes over to stave him off.

Eric's eyes literally bulge when they fall on the red handprint on Serena's left cheek. Feeling instantly more awake, he stretches his head around Serena to see who has dared to smack his sister like that. His jaw drops when his eyes fall on Jenny. "Jenny?" he asks, his voice sounding hollow as he tries to make head or tail of the circumstances.

"Hello, Eric," Jenny greets him coolly; her eyes almost unfriendly as they move from Serena to him and back again.

"What's going on?" Eric repeats, turning on his sister when it becomes obvious that both women are unforthcoming with the information he seeks.

"Go back to sleep, Eric," Serena tells him again, her tone full of warning and brooking no argument – at least not for now. "Please. I'll make sure to explain everything later."

Eric looks dubiously at the both of them, but he eventually backs away slowly. Once he reaches the door of his bedroom, he turns to say very loudly, "Be sure to tell me _everything_ later. See you around, Jenny."

Jenny nods stiffly at Eric. Both Jenny and Serena proceed to wait in awkwardness till they are sure that Eric is gone before returning their much-needed attention to the problem at hand.

"So," Serena starts out awkwardly, wringing her hands together and trying but failing to maintain eye contact with Jenny. How does one go about starting a conversation after just being called names and then slapped? "How've you been?" she finally decides and winces at the lameness of the sentence.

"Cut the bullshit," Jenny growls, her eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "I'm not here to play nice with you."

"Okay," Serena drawls cautiously. She watches Jenny carefully and asks, "This _is_ about Blair, right?"

If looks could kill, Serena would have died a thousand times over by now. "Aren't you a smart one? Anyone ever told you that before?" Jenny snaps sarcastically.

"Jenny, I'm not trying to be clever, but I _really_ don't understand what's going on here," Serena says slowly, hoping to assuage Jenny enough to make the younger blonde coherent. She also hopes that Jenny does not know that yes, technically, Blair has cheated on her with Serena – only once, but still every single time should count, right? _That'd be terrible, but that_ would _explain the slap, wouldn't it?_

Jenny sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. It is more than obvious that she is trying to gather herself and she is having a difficult time at it. Serena lets Jenny have the time she very clearly needs and take the chance to observe the younger blonde without any interruption.

Jenny looks frazzled and it shows beyond just the careless and haphazard way she dresses. But, the way she dresses is a very good indication of her emotions. Serena knows that people in Blair and Jenny's line of profession take the way they dress very seriously. It surprises her to no end that Jenny has dared to venture out in the way she is currently dressed. Sure, it is only four in the morning, but Serena has never known and cannot ever imagine (at least until now) either Jenny or Blair to dare walk out in public in sweats that do not even match – or to ever dare walk out in public in sweats, period.

"It's about Blair obviously," Jenny starts eventually. She looks a tad confused as she keeps her eyes trained at the mess that the coffee table separating the two of them is and then she lets out a laugh. It sounds strangled and it sounds wrong coming out of Jenny; so Serena knows it will neither be appropriate nor appreciated if she joins in.

"She – she -" Jenny's words falter and trail into another bout of awkward silence and an ugly look passes across her face, a look that says she is loathed to share the information – least of all, judging by the glare she directs at Serena, with Serena. "Blair's drunk as a lord," and the way she says it makes Serena feel like she should be guilty somehow (maybe she is guilty somehow), "Well, she was. She's a bit better now. Wait." Jenny releases a frustrated breath and purses her lips. "I'm not telling this right." She looks up slowly and her eyes are not angry, not accusing – just incredibly sad – as they bore into Serena's.

"She came home late last night." She lets out another forced laugh and Serena pulls away a little. "More like early this morning – just an hour ago maybe. Anyway, she was drunk like she's never been drunk before and I asked her where she's been. She told me earlier yesterday that she had a client to entertain, but she lied." There is a small pause and Jenny has an amused smirk playing about her lips that does not seem like good news to Serena. "She lied. I called her secretary when it was getting late and her secretary told me there was no client to entertain. Blair's simply been out drinking, drinking so much and without a thought – like she's trying desperately to kill herself."

Serena's heart contracts and lurches, drops like it is a stone – it is almost painful trying to breathe. "Is she okay?" she asks quickly, a dozen scenarios – each one exponentially worse than the one before it – running through her mind and she is already poised to leave and be there by Blair's side. She knows better than anyone else how far and how deep Blair's self-destructive streak runs.

But Jenny simply forges on like she cannot hear Serena, "She came home and made so much noise that I'd have woken up if I were asleep. But I wasn't asleep. I was worried out of my mind and there she came stumbling in through the door like she had not a care in the world." Jenny's jaw tenses and her knuckles have turned white with how hard she is gripping her knees. "I was so scared. So I pushed and pushed and pushed. I wasn't thinking. We got into an argument." Jenny pauses again and looks suddenly uncertain. When it looks like she will no longer continue, she goes on – her voice smaller than it has been, "That was when she suddenly fell forward and fainted dead away. I thought she must have drunk so much to keel over like that. The Blair Waldorf I knew wasn't a lightweight."

"Jenny, please tell me. Is Blair okay?" Serena asks, leaning towards the younger blonde across the coffee table. She has been patient enough not to tell Jenny to cut to the chase, but her patience is about to run out. Serena van der Woodsen is known for many things, but patience is simply not one of them.

"I got her to the bedroom and that was when I realised she was running a fever," Jenny carries on, her voice softer now, a little more pained and her eyes are unseeing as they stare down at her palms. "I called the family doctor right away." Jenny's voice begins breaking. "He said she was stressed – or depressed. What difference does it make anyway? She just hadn't been eating right, hadn't been sleeping right and she had had one too many drink. When the doctor's gone, I just took to sitting there by her side, changing her compress and all that. And then she woke up. She looked at me -"

Jenny glares at Serena again and leans further forward. "She didn't see me, she didn't think of me. The first person she asked for is _you_. You weren't even _there_ for six years. Then you suddenly appeared and she's all over you again. It's a fucking joke, that's what it is. It's like we haven't been together for three years, like I was just warming up this, _this_ spot you left. It's so fucking unfair. Just fucking unfair. I was just a replacement and obviously not a very good one at that."

Serena feels sorry, wants to say that she is sorry, but her most important concern at the moment is to establish whether or not Blair is okay. She knows she is selfish acting and thinking like that (and who is she trying to fool here – she has always been selfish and she is not about to start having moral values now of all times), but she remembers all the times that Blair had tried to inflict pain upon herself and how every single time it seemed that Blair got closer and closer to succeeding. Blair in pain is not something she wants to imagine, but Blair in self-inflicted pain is an even worse scenario and it leaves a bad aftertaste in Serena's mouth.

"Jenny, please," she hisses, throwing her arm out to catch at Jenny's arm. Jenny's eyes roam restlessly, nervously, without direction until finally they settle on Serena's. "Is. Blair. Okay?" she enunciates clearly, trying not to think that Jenny has been out of her mind enough with jealousy to have left an ill Blair all to herself.

"She's okay," Jenny finally says, her shoulders dropping noticeably and tears brimming in her eyes. Her bottom lip shakes, but she presses on, "She's incoherent still and her fever hasn't broken. She couldn't keep down food and she kept tossing around in bed." Jenny sniffs raggedly and Serena is suddenly reminded of that eager-eyed blonde who had once followed both Blair and her at high school. "And she kept calling for you, she kept asking for you. She didn't see me at all." Jenny's tears run a little more quickly. "I was right _there_ and she couldn't, wouldn't see me!"

Serena sighs and squeezes Jenny's arm again. At least Blair is okay. "I'm sorry, Jenny," she whispers and it sounds really hollow even to her own ears.

"No, you're not," Jenny snorts, wiping away her tears viciously. "I've seen the way you looked at her when we met at the gala. You wanted her. You still want her." Jenny shakes her head and her hands shake on her knees. Serena steps back quickly. Jenny chuckles. "It's so unfair, but I've been violent enough tonight. I'm not – I'm not usually violent, you know? But I won't apologise for that slap."

"You don't have to," Serena says. "And I won't apologise for loving Blair either. You're right, I wanted her and I still want her. I've always wanted her and this time I'm not letting her go." She feels like such a jerk for rubbing salt in Jenny's wound, but she knows it is better that Jenny gives up all hope sooner than later. "I am beyond glad that she still wants me. I love her, Jenny, and I will never ever apologise for that." Serena inhales and adds, "But I'm sorry that you're hurt, I _am_ sorry. Please believe that."

There is something akin to acceptance in the way Jenny looks at her, but the fury remains in her eyes and Serena wisely keeps her distance. "I'm sorry that I'm hurt too. But don't think I'm ever forgiving the two of you. It's probably not anyone's fault and it's probably everyone's fault. But you're right, I'm hurt and I have to stay angry. At least till my heart doesn't feel so broken anymore."

Serena offers weakly, "The heart's a very strong organ. It won't break so easily."

"Easy for you to say." Jenny rummages in the pockets of her sweats and tosses whatever she has found in them. "Go to her. And stay out of my sight. I don't think I can stop myself if I see the two of you together."

Serena catches the keys neatly in one hand and looks incredulously at Jenny. She does not recognise the keys, but she guesses they are keys to Blair's apartment. "Are you serious? About this, I mean. Do you want me to go to Blair?"

"I'm not stupid enough to try to fight for someone who very obviously doesn't want me. I'm not that much of a masochist. Just go, Serena. Blair needs you." Jenny gets up slowly and makes for the door. "Tell Blair I'll send someone to gather my things first thing tomorrow morning."

"Jenny," Serena calls out. "Thank you," she whispers sincerely.

Jenny's response is to flip her the finger. "You better stay this time, van der Woodsen," Jenny warns before walking out and slamming the door in her wake.

* * *

It takes a few choice words from Eric to finally get Serena out of the stupor she has found herself in once Jenny is gone. When she feels more like herself, she immediately calls for a cab and refuses to settle down and stop pacing until the cab arrives. She reaches Blair's apartment building in what has to be record time and wastes no more time in getting to Blair's. Serena takes a few moments to compose herself as she stands breathlessly before Blair's apartment door and her heart practically jumps when she finally puts the key in and pushes the door open. She does not know where Blair's bedroom is and depends on instinct or really good luck to guide her to the right room.

Blair looks like that picture of Sleeping Beauty the two of them had once oohed and aahed over when they were much younger. With her lips too red from fever, with her cheeks flushed unnaturally and with her hair matted to her face - but she is so beautiful, just like Sleeping Beauty. Serena supposes she is the prince of the story, but that is the furthest thing she feels she is. She has hurt so many people in getting what she wants, in getting who she wants. The worst thing is that she will do it all over again if she has to. She must be evil, but it is enough if Blair alone does not hate her. Serena can live with being called evil by everyone else.

Serena kneels down carefully beside Blair, takes one clammy hand into one of her own and strokes Blair's damp forehead. "Hey, B," she whispers, more to herself than to Blair and Serena must admit that she needs the contact to assure herself that this is real, that Blair is real, that she has actually been offered a second chance. Of course, she may very well be getting ahead of herself, but a bit – or, a lot – of optimism seems to be just what the doctor orders. "You're looking pretty bad there," Serena jokes lamely, kissing the back of Blair's hand.

She watches the slight flutter of Blair's eyelashes and holds her breath. She wants Blair to wake up, but some small part of her wants the contrary. She does not know what she will say should Blair suddenly wake up. "I love you," she murmurs sincerely, "and I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if you want, if you'll have me. So, please, please don't tell me to go away."

* * *

"Serena?" is the first word Blair utters upon waking up. Her head feels whole, there is no buzzing in her ears and she can see properly for what feels like the first time in days. There is a blonde head resting just a few inches out of her left hand's reach and Blair just _knows_ that this blonde _is_ Serena. "S," she croaks out a little more loudly.

The blonde head in question begins to stir and a pair of impossibly blue eyes blinks as they meet hers. "Blair?" Serena asks quizzically, looking more disoriented than the actual ill person.

"Hey, S," Blair whispers, almost shy as she stretches her fingers forward to run her fingertips down Serena's cheek. It is a pleasant feeling, a familiar feeling – and it is so freeing to not deny the pounding of her heart in response to the slowly blooming smile on Serena's lips.

Serena leans almost instinctively into Blair's touch and her eyes close as she simply enjoys the intimacy of the simple acts. She dares not hope, but still she holds out a wish, a longing and before she can stop herself, she has blurted out, "I love you, Blair." Serena's eyes bulge and her cheeks take on a rosy tint.

Blair smiles almost indulgently and just thinks, just looks at Serena. There is another time to think about Jenny, about the complications her love life has become – for now; there is just Blair and Serena and Blair thinks she likes the sound of that just fine. "I know," she answers gently, tugging at Serena's hand and brushing dry lips against Serena's knuckles. Serena promptly bursts into tears. "I love you too," she murmurs amidst Serena's increasingly loud sobbing.

* * *

"Jenny what?!" Blair asks, choking on her mouthful of water.

Serena looks a little sheepish and she begins again, not quite sure whether she should or not – but the gleam in Blair's eyes warns her that she better or else, "She slapped me. But you must understand, she was angry. She just found out that her girlfriend of three years still had feelings for said girlfriend's ex-girlfriend. Uhm, never said that many 'lover' in one sentence before."

"Focus, S," Blair says, pushing away her tray of food.

"She was angry," Serena remarks solemnly, "but I'd have been too if I were her. She probably hates me and I don't blame her at all."

"She probably hates me too," Blair says gloomily. "I've tried to call her, you know. But she hasn't been answering at all. I just – I just need to see her face to face. It just seems really wrong to break up without actually speaking to one another."

"I don't think there's any _right_ way to break up, B," Serena points out.

"No," Blair agrees, "but I'd prefer that I get to hear I've just been dumped from _her_ and not someone else. It'd have been nice too if she had dropped in to say something, hell, slap me one too, when the movers came to collect her stuff." Blair sighs. "It just makes me feel like all we had was a – a business transaction of sorts."

It has been three days since the confrontation and Blair has grown increasingly healthier and more coherent since then. Serena has explained what has happened to Blair the moment the brunette showed signs of being more alert. Jenny has immediately disappeared from both of their lives and, at Blair's insistence; Serena has found out from Dan (after a lot of coaxing) that Jenny has taken refuge with Rufus out of state. Serena does sort of wish that it could have been easier for all of them, but she must admit that it is not wholly selfless reasons motivating her.

Serena knows that Blair feels bad about letting Jenny know about her feelings like that and she also knows that Blair wishes to have ended things on a better note. Serena wants to tell Blair that all is well that ends well, but she doubts that suggestion will go over too well. She personally is just happy that they are back together – tentatively at least; "probationary period" is Blair's term for it. Serena is just glad that Blair wants her there. She can work at getting them back _together_ on a slower pace.

"What are you thinking?" Blair asks suspiciously.

"Nothing," Serena says. "Just – _us_ , you know? I'm just happy that you gave me a second chance." She smiles and takes Blair's hand into hers.

"I haven't," Blair reminds her, but she allows Serena to link their fingers together. "You still have to work to get that second chance."

"I know," Serena tells her. "And I promise I'll prove myself. I _won't_ ever leave your side, Blair. Not again."

"Promise?" Blair whispers.

"I promise."

"Forever?" Blair asks in the echo of a childhood promise.

Only this time they are no longer children promising things that they may not follow through, this time they are adults and their hearts have been a little bruised and they (finally) understand the gravity of promises. Serena leans forward on her elbows and hovers her lips over Blair's. "I promise," she husks. "Forever. Just for you, I promise forever."

That first kiss tastes so sweet and Serena hopes it is the beginning of many more to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Many thanks to dauthik (or shadowings) and xstaplegunnedxx for putting up with me, you guys have been a great help and I couldn't have done without your help.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Many thanks to dauthink and xstaplegunnedxx for looking this over!


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